Ahwin had completely misunderstood.
She had mourned her husband’s death, but not to the point of weeping uncontrollably in grief.
After all, it had been a marriage of convenience. Shortly after the wedding, her husband had left for a monster hunt, leaving them with no time to build any real affection.
On their wedding night, he had barely shown his face before disappearing to attend to his duties. What feelings could possibly remain for someone like that?
When she first heard of his death, her shock came entirely from the uncertainty of her future.
Her life had suddenly become as precarious as a candle flickering in the wind.
And, as if struck by lightning, the shock triggered her memories of her past life.
From that moment on, she had been consumed with handling her husband’s and the knights’ funerals, cleaning up the aftermath of the accident, and navigating a whirlwind of responsibilities.
‘It was a chaotic and overwhelming time.’
Instead of explaining all of this, Penelope chose to accept the wizard’s apology calmly.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Ahem, well, I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’ll be going now.”
Ahwin replied awkwardly, shuffling his feet before turning and walking back the way he came. Despite appearances, he seemed to have a rather delicate nature.
‘He’s a bit different than I thought.’
Once again, Penelope revised her evaluation of the wizard.
***
The next morning, Penelope sat at her desk in the office, buried in paperwork.
This had been her routine ever since her husband’s death.
In other words, poring over last year’s records, sweating over reconciling the numbers.
The financial paperwork, in particular, seemed endless.
‘My eyes are going to fall out.’
With no proper handover or guidance, every task ended up taking her three times longer.
On top of that, her predecessor didn’t seem to have been particularly diligent with documentation.
‘Why does it feel like I’m doing more work now than when I was at a major corporation?’
It wasn’t just a feeling—it was reality.
“Why do the numbers keep not adding up?”
Frowning deeply, Penelope glared at the documents. How could the finances be this disorganized when there wasn’t even any evidence of embezzlement?
“Seriously, how could someone be so incompetent? Can’t even keep paperwork straight!”
Finally, she threw the documents aside in frustration.
She didn’t want to hold it against him, but she suddenly felt like grabbing her late husband by the collar and shaking him.
No wonder he’d seemed so obsessed with monster hunting. The paperwork was a disaster—completely chaotic and disjointed.
She had just wasted two hours because some fool had mixed the knights’ lodging expenses for spring into the autumn records.
‘I really need to let go of my perfectionism. Ugh, my time! What a waste!’
Penelope’s background at a major corporation made it impossible for her to overlook such sloppy paperwork.
“This isn’t the time for this—I need to start planning a business for the territory.”
Her impatience grew.
The floor heating project had only just entered the research phase, and the territory needed another source of income.
If she wanted to launch a proper business before winter, even starting now might be too late.
‘I only started going through these records to see if they’d give me any ideas for a new business.’
But somewhere along the line, her priorities had flipped. She had ended up completely engrossed in reviewing the documents.
“I think I’ve already used up all the useful information from the original story.”
Buying Durek Railroad stocks and selling green herbs to the Mage Tower—both ideas had come from her knowledge of the novel.
Unfortunately, her memory of the original work was far from comprehensive.
Even though it had been a book she found so entertaining that she’d lost sleep reading it, all she remembered were the names of key characters and major plot points.
The fact that she’d even recalled the Durek Railroad Company was nothing short of a miracle.
‘It must’ve stuck because the name was so unique.’
In other words, she had already mined the original story for all the insights she could.
‘From here on out, I’ll have to figure things out myself.’
After spending the entire morning reviewing documents, she couldn’t find any past endeavors of the Halo Territory that were worth building upon.
“I need to completely change the way I think.”
So, Penelope began brainstorming modern innovations that could be adapted to this world.
‘A café or ready-to-wear clothing business might work…’
But both required too much initial capital.
Besides, wasn’t there a saying that not everyone was cut out for running a business?
Jumping in without a plan was the quickest way to lose everything.
‘I need to start with something small.’
Penelope began methodically drafting a realistic plan.
‘What’s a business I can start easily? It’d be best to modify an existing product with a new idea.’
As she washed her hands with the water brought by the maids, her thoughts continued.
She lathered the soap, scrubbed until her hands were squeaky clean, and rinsed them. It left her feeling refreshed, though the soap itself had no fragrance.
“Hm… now that I think about it…”
The soap in this world was unscented.
In fact, the quality of the soap was generally poor.
After using it, the skin often became rough, which was why the wealthy and nobility applied scented oils to keep their skin smooth. For their faces, they used copious amounts of creams mixed with fragrant oils for hydration.
As a result, most poor commoners had rough, unhealthy skin.
‘Hmm? This might actually be worth pursuing.’
Penelope’s face lit up with a sudden idea.
After quickly organizing her thoughts, she headed straight to the wizard’s room.
Knock, knock.
“Are you inside?”
“No, I’m not!”
“…”
Penelope paused, momentarily at a loss for words. She doubted she’d ever get used to the wizard’s tone.
‘Honestly, he’s starting to cross the line. He’s clearly younger than me.’
Her inner Confucian self, a holdover from her previous life, bristled like a coiled dragon.
‘Fine, I’ll let it slide for now. He’s from the Mage Tower—of course his pride is through the roof.’
Scraping the bottom of her patience, Penelope forced herself to stay calm.
After taking a deep breath, she knocked again.
Knock, knock.
“It’s me. Are you there?”
“I told you, no one’s here!”
“Oh, then I suppose it’s a ghost answering me. I happen to have a question for the ghost.”
Raising her voice with a cheerful smile, Penelope resolved to keep at it until the door opened.
Clatter!
With a dramatic swing, the door flew open, and Ahwin poked his head out.
His dull blond hair still hung limply over his face. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his complexion seemed even paler than the day before.
Yet his intense, precarious gaze still managed to captivate.
‘Ah, is this what they call the "decadent look"? Or maybe not…?’
Before she realized it, Penelope swallowed nervously.
The crisp white shirt and black trousers he wore only emphasized his broad shoulders and slender waist. His exposed collarbone was sharp and straight, and the muscles beneath his shirt were surprisingly toned.
‘I thought he’d be frail and unathletic… That’s unexpected.’
In many ways, Ahwin defied Penelope’s expectations.
She had imagined him as skinny, antisocial, and holed up in a dark room poring over magical formulas. The only part of that image that held true was his lack of social skills.
In a sharp, irritable voice, Ahwin demanded, “What do you want?”
His tone carried an unspoken threat: ask something foolish, and I’ll send you flying across the border.
‘Ah, why was I just standing here dumbfounded?’
Snapping out of her daze, Penelope straightened her posture, carefully arranging her expression.
“I heard you’re well-versed in alchemy.”
“…And?”
Ahwin replied warily, his voice tinged with unease. Surely, she wasn’t about to ask how to make gold? He’d had that experience hundreds of times and instinctively furrowed his brow.
Clearing her throat, Penelope got straight to the point.
“I’d like you to teach me how to make soap.”
“What…?”
Ahwin’s eyes widened, trembling slightly. Soap… Soap…?
“Did you seriously just ask me how to make soap?”
“Yes, you heard me correctly.”
Shock washed over Ahwin like a lightning bolt striking the back of his head.
With a puzzled look, Penelope continued, “Isn’t chemistry the foundation of alchemy?”
“And you’re asking me about soap?”
“Oh… Should I not have asked…?”
Penelope’s voice grew smaller and smaller as Ahwin’s gaze sharpened like that of a predator. Though his face was partially obscured by his messy hair, his fierce expression was impossible to miss.
Meanwhile, Ahwin was utterly dumbfounded.
He had entered the Mage Tower at three years old due to his innate genius, growing up revered as a prodigy.
A wizard among wizards. The pride of Arksante, the Mage Tower’s highest authority. A once-in-a-millennium genius.
And now someone was asking him… how to make soap.
Crack. Crack.
The sound of his high wizardly pride shattering echoed in his mind.