Four days later, the steamship that Poul and Penelope used to get to the United States docked in the Port of New York. They walked down the gangway, leading them to the busy and bustling streets of the city that never sleeps.
As they made their way through the crowds, Penelope clutched onto Poul's arm tightly. She was still recovering from the stab wounds she incurred from Great Britain, which made the noise and commotion overwhelming and exhausting for her.
Poul, who sensed her discomfort, guided her towards a nearby park bench to rest for a moment. As they sat down, Poul took Penelope's hand in his, comforting her with a gentle squeeze.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.
Penelope looked up at him with a small smile, grateful for his support. "Yes, I'm alright. It's just a bit overwhelming, that's all," she replied softly.
