It was painfully awkward.
The kind of awkward that made every sip of tea feel like a slow descent into madness.
Penelope, who had tried to publicly ruin Verena just a week ago, was now sitting at the same table, pinky raised, daintily sipping floral oolong like she hadn't tried to emotionally suplex her.
The development was way too fast.
It felt like the story had skipped a few pages just to throw them into a "tense tea party reconciliation" arc. And yet, Verena had invited her.
Clarina and Beatrice were frozen like background NPCs, their teacups hovering mid-air.
Beatrice looked like she was calculating the square root of betrayal, and Clarina was seconds away from launching her biscuit at Penelope like a throwing star.
"Care to explain why we're babysitting her now?" Clarina whispered, holding a hand beside her face for cover.
"Yeah, why are we doing this again?" Beatrice joined in.
