The Extra's Guide to Accidental Treason

Chapter 2

For the next ten years, Penelope executed her background-character survival strategy with absolute perfection.

It turned out that being a professional extra was an art form, and Penelope was its undisputed master. Whenever her family was required to attend mandatory imperial functions in the palace, she adhered strictly to her rules.

While other young noblewomen fought for Crown Prince Theodore's attention, Penelope positioned herself precisely four meters from the nearest exit, concealed behind high-end floral arrangements or marble pillars.

She didn't interfere. She didn't make waves. She simply enjoyed the show.

And what a show it was.

Penelope watched from behind a massive tree when Theodore first encountered the sweet, lowly noble girl, Lillian Hearts, at the hunting grounds. She was there--discreetly ducked behind a velvet drapery--when Theodore single-handedly dismantled an ambush of rogue mages during the Summer Solstice Ball, his raven-black hair gleaming under the chandelier lights as his sword moved with breathtaking grace.

Every major plot point went off without a hitch. Penelope kept her small leather notebook hidden beneath her floorboards at home, jotting down future events strictly so she could stay as far away from the crossfire as humanly possible.

The story reached its grand climax during her nineteenth year at the Imperial Victory Gala.

The plot's ultimate villain, Duke Calisto, attempted a desperate coup right in the center of the grand ballroom. Dark magic flared, noble ladies swooned into drapes, and steel clashed against steel in a chaotic spectacle.

And Penelope? Penelope was crouched safely behind a silk curtain on the second-floor gallery, eating a miniature chocolate mousse with a tiny silver spoon, watching the entire fight with enthusiastic glee like watching a 3D movie at a theater.

She watched as Theodore stepped through the smoke, his dark hair disheveled, his sharp blue eyes cold and unyielding as he pressed the tip of his broadsword against Duke Calisto's neck, securing the Empire's safety once and for all.

It was magnificent. It was triumphant.

When the knights dragged the traitor away and Lillian rushed into the prince's arms, Penelope wiped a genuinely touched tear from her eye with a cloth napkin.

Bravo,

She had cheered silently, giving them a standing ovation in her mind.

This story is actually so good. Why did I think it was trash? And now that it's over, my work here as a spectator is officially complete.

The very next month, Penelope convinced her father that countryside air would do wonders for his prized rose hybrids and it would be nice to settle there while her twin brothers were at the Academy. Within weeks, the Rosier family packed up their belongings and permanently retired to their humble provincial estate, far away from the political shark tank of the capital.

Six months passed in absolute, uninterrupted paradise.

Penelope's new routine was a masterwork of peaceful obscurity. She slept in until nine, spent her afternoons reading trashy romance novels under a weeping willow, helped her father mix fertilizer, and recently, she has started learning how to bake from her mother.

On a foggy Tuesday morning, six months after the story ended, Penelope sat at the dining table in a soft cotton dress, happily buttering a fresh slice of warm, freshly baked bread.

Across from her, her mother was humming by the stove, pouring a fresh pot of Earl Grey tea, and her father was reading the local agriculture gazette, complaining good-naturedly about the rising cost of imported bat guano.

Penelope took a sip of her tea, closed her eyes, and let out a long, deeply contented sigh.

Ah

She thought, her heart swelling with profound satisfaction.

This is it. The true ending. I survived the plot, protected my family, and officially retired.

She took a huge, blissful bite of her buttered toast, savoring the salty crunch.

Life was perfect. Nothing could possibly ruin this.

BANG!

The heavy oak front doors of the estate were shattered completely off their hinges with a deafening roar of splintering wood.

Her mother shrieked, dropping the tea pot, while her father leaped out of his chair, instinctively trying to shield Penelope who was the nearest to him. Before anyone could draw a breath, a company of elite Imperial Knights clad in heavy silver armor flooded into the house, swiftly securing every exit and drawing their weapons.

Through the dust and splinters, a solitary figure strode into the modest foyer, bringing with him an overwhelming, suffocating pressure that made the very air in the room feel heavy.

Penelope froze, her slice of toast sliding right out of her fingers onto her plate.

Standing on her family's worn rug was Crown Prince Theodore von Valerius himself.

He wore full, dark imperial armor, his raven-black hair pushed back, his piercing blue eyes fixed entirely upon her. In his gloved hand, he carried a heavy parchment tied with a stark, crimson imperial wax seal. The highest classification of emergency in the Empire.

Theodore didn't spare a glance toward her trembling parents. He unrolled the parchment, his deep, resonant voice echoing through the ruined hallway like thunder.

"Lady Penelope Celestia de Rosier," Theodore declared coldly. "By order of the Imperial Crown and High Military Command, you are officially declared a High-Tier Threat to the Empire."

Penelope blinked in absolute, dumbfounded horror.

A High-Tier Threat?! ME?!

Before she could process the sheer absurdity of the statement, Imperial guards started to cuff her as a loud, shaking roar erupted from her father.

"Step back from my daughter!"

Baron Rosier scrambled up from the floorboards, his face pale and sweating, but his eyes blazing with protective fury. He stretched his arms with Penelope at his back, brandishing a silver butter knife like a legendary holy sword. His knees were visibly knocking together, but he didn't yield an inch.

"I don't care if you are the Crown Prince!" her father gasped, holding the butter knife aloft. "Penelope has never harmed a fly! If you want to drag her away on fake charges, you will have to cut through me first!"

"Father, no!" Penelope gasped, her heart leaping into her throat.

Her mother grabbed a heavy brass candlestick off the sideboard, stepping side-by-side with her husband, weeping furiously. "There must be a misunderstanding, Your Highness. Perhaps the perpetrator is someone who has the same name as our Pen."

The imperial knights drew their steel with a collective, terrifying clang.

Penelope knew with certainty, if her family resisted an imperial arrest warrant signed by the future Emperor, they would be executed for high treason on the spot.

"Stop! Everyone, stop right now!" Penelope yelled, throwing her arms wide to shield her family from the drawn swords.

"Pen, stay behind me!" her father choked out, his hand shaking so hard the butter knife rattled.

"Father, put the knife down. Please," Penelope begged, turning to her family with the warmest, most reassuring smile she could muster despite the terror clawing at her throat. She gently pressed her father's shaking arm down until the knife lowered.

"Look at me. It's okay. It's probably just a clerical error."

"Penelope..." her mother sobbed.

"You know how the Imperial Bureaucracy is," Penelope said smoothly, keeping her voice light, even, and completely calm.

"Someone in the capital filed the wrong paperwork, or my name got mixed up with an actual criminal's. His Highness just came to clear up a big misunderstanding."

Penelope looked at her Mother and caressed the back of her hand. "I'll be okay, Mom. Please, stop shaking. Think of it as me taking a short trip to the capital to sign a few papers. While I'm there, I'll have to buy your favorite cookbook if they release its latest edition."

"Dear, are you sure? We can go with you--"

"No, mother. The twins will be returning this summer and it might shock them if no one was home."

"We could always write them a letter--"

"No, father. The twins are probably studying for their finals. I don't want them to stress over something like this."

"But--"

"I promise. I'll return unharmed and as soon as possible."

Turning back to face the Crown Prince, Penelope smoothed down her simple dress, held her chin high, and stepped away from her family.

"I will come with you quietly, Your Highness," Penelope said, her voice steady. "Just leave my family out of this. They know nothing."

Theodore stared at her for a long, heavy moment, his sharp blue eyes searching her face with an intensity so raw it made her skin prickle.

"Your family will not be touched," Theodore said quietly. "You have my word."

Minutes later, Penelope was ushered into a massive, black-and-gold carriage parked outside her mother's ruined hydrangea bushes. The heavy door slammed shut, and the carriage lurched forward, carrying her away from her peaceful countryside bliss.

The interior was lined with rich dark velvet, but the air felt suffocating.

Theodore sat directly across from her, his broad shoulders blocking out the window light, his intense blue eyes locked onto her face.

What did I do? Did I miss something? Have I not followed my guide perfectly? I'm positive this is even the first encounter I have with a main character, so why am I being dragged back to the Capital all of a sudden!?

Penelope squeezed her hands tightly in her lap, trying to stop them from trembling.

"Your Highness... I don't mean to question your judgement, but can you please tell me what I am actually being accused of? High-Tier Threat? I'm just a Baron's daughter."

Theodore reached down, pulled a thick, black leather binder from beneath his seat, and tossed it onto the small mahogany table between them. It landed with an ominous thud.

"Read it," Theodore commanded smoothly.

With trembling fingers, Penelope reached out and flipped the binder open. Inside were dozens of pages filled with intricate handwriting, detailed timestamps, and drawn diagrams from Imperial Intelligence.

Log Entry 402: Winter Solstice Ball. Target Penelope de Rosier positioned herself precisely 4.2 meters from the grand staircase, maintaining an unblinking gaze upon the Imperial Prince for forty-seven minutes while consuming a strawberry tart.

Log Entry 519: The Imperial Hunt. Target concealed herself behind an oak tree prior to the sudden monster ambush, observing the Prince's swordplay without displaying a single heartbeat of panic.

Penelope's mouth fell open. "You... you've been tracking me?!"

"For three years," Theodore said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Do you know how maddening it was, Lady Rosier? No matter where I went, no matter how secret the location or tight the security, you were always there. Watching me. Silent. Never taking a side, never making a move, yet predicting every single major event before it happened."

"I wasn't predicting events!" Penelope practically shrieked, forgetting her terror for a fraction of a second.

"I was literally just eating pastries which just happened to be somewhere these events happen!"

"A brilliant cover," Theodore replied, his voice dropping into a dark tone.

He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small, worn leather notebook, the exact notebook Penelope had kept hidden under her floorboards, where she had written down plot points to avoid.

Penelope's soul nearly left her body.

M-My diary?! I thought I hid it well in our rest house in the Capital!?!?

Theodore opened it to a page stamped with a dark red warning seal.

"You wrote about the treason of Duke Calisto six months before it happened. You detailed the exact location of the lost Imperial Sword two years before my knights discovered it. And..."

Theodore's fingers tightened on the edges of her notebook until the paper crinkled. His eyes blazed with a terrifying intensity.

"...you wrote that I would marry Lady Lillian."

Silence descended upon the carriage, heavy and suffocating.

"Explain to me, Lady Rosier," Theodore whispered, leaning down until his face was inches from hers.

"How did a minor Baron's daughter know everything I have planned? And why, after writing this... did you move away to the countryside, never to be heard of again?"