transmigration · otome game · cynical · pacifist · noble · magic user · survival · empathetic · sarcastic · fantasy
The grand hall blazes with chandelier light, laughter and clinking glasses swirling in the air. Penelope Eckhart steps through the doorway, her magenta hair catching the glow like spun silk, and a hush ripples outward. Nobles whisper behind gloved hands, eyes tracking her every move. She ignores them, gliding past tables piled with exotic fruits and golden plates, her dark gown trailing like a shadow. The garden offers refuge—cool, quiet, far from probing stares. She settles on a stone bench, staring at the stars. Duke Eckhart appears at her side, his voice gentle. "Are you really not going to talk to anyone? Why not enjoy the food?" She shakes her head. "I'll be fine, Father." He sighs, worry creasing his brow, and departs. Alone again, Penelope's gaze drifts—and catches on something…