Mixing water and caustic soda in a 2:1 ratio, heating it to the right temperature, and then blending in the fruit oil was a simple yet straightforward process. It was almost enjoyable, like assembling a DIY kit by following an instruction manual.
Ahwin finished the process by adding green herb oil in various ratios. He stirred the mixture thoroughly with a wooden stick before pouring it into the sulfur-paper-lined wooden molds.
Except for the addition of green herb oil, the procedure was no different from standard soap-making.
“Now all we have to do is wait for the mixture in the molds to harden,” Ahwin declared, brushing off his hands.
Penelope felt relieved that the experiment had concluded without any mishaps.
“Good work, everyone. You’ve all done well. You’re free to go now.”
The maids bowed their heads and swiftly left the wizard’s laboratory. Clearly, they were eager to escape the ominous presence of the experimental equipment.
“You can leave too,” Ahwin said, shooing her away with a wave of his hand.
“…”
Penelope froze.
He had addressed her as "Baroness" before, yet now it seemed her title had been demoted to “you.”
This wizard really is impossible, she thought.
Penelope was a noblewoman, and in this world, that alone demanded respect.
Surely, he understood that—but the wizard acted as if he didn’t.
No, it’s not that he doesn’t know. He’s deliberately ignoring it.
Realizing this, Penelope felt as though Ahwin had positioned himself above her.
I can’t let him look down on me anymore.
She made up her mind firmly.
In this contract, Penelope was the one in charge—the “upper hand.” She couldn’t allow herself to be pushed around by the wizard, who was technically the “subordinate.”
The key to winning any battle is establishing dominance early.
Penelope glanced at the light green soap in the molds, leaned in, and sniffed.
It had a strong, earthy scent.
“It smells like grass in here,” she said.
“That’s the green herb,” Ahwin replied, clicking his tongue. His tone made it sound like the answer was blatantly obvious—of course, soap made with green herbs would smell like green herbs.
Penelope replied, “Since it’s soap, I’d like it to have a more pleasant scent.”
“…Sure, that’s theoretically possible. You could add oils with different fragrances. But shouldn’t we first check if this soap retains the green herb’s properties?”
“Fine. Let’s do that first.”
Ahwin stared at her, his gaze suspicious.
Did I mishear? Did the Baroness just… talk down to me?
His eyes wavered, as if caught in a storm of disbelief.
Penelope simply lowered her gaze and continued inspecting the soap in silence.
After staring at her blankly for a while, Ahwin finally spoke.
“Shall we… do it that way?”
“Please do,” Penelope answered calmly.
Ahwin asked again, as if confirming, “You’d like me to do it that way?”
“Yes, I would.”
A realization seemed to dawn on Ahwin as he let out a low gasp.
She had mirrored his tone. Informal for informal, formal for formal.
It was a sharp lesson in reflection.
Ahwin, quick to pick up on such nuances when it mattered, frowned and said, “If you’re expecting me to treat you with respect, you can forget about it. I’m not someone you can boss around so easily—”
“What was your name again?” Penelope interjected suddenly.
“You were supposed to call me Ahwin,” he replied, his frown deepening.
At his response, Penelope placed her hand on her chest and slightly bent her knees, an elegant bow honed over 21 years of aristocratic training.
“Well then, Ahwin, you may address me as the Baroness of Halo. I’m sure I introduced myself that way before.”
“Your title’s too long. It’s inefficient,” he retorted.
“…”
So, it was an issue of efficiency.
It seemed that Ahwin, for all his eccentricities, had his own rigid set of principles.
An egotistical, self-centered, efficiency-obsessed wizard. What a disaster.
And yet, when he was clutching that crystal ball at 3 a.m., sobbing, efficiency didn’t seem to matter to him, Penelope thought, giving up on trying to understand him further.
You couldn’t expect too much from a wizard, she decided. Especially one as peculiar as Ahwin.
But unfortunately, Ahwin wasn’t done talking.
“That’s not your real name, is it? I mean, what’s your actual name?”
My real name?
Penelope hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Penelope. You can call me that.”
At her concise reply, Ahwin ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Fine. I’ll call you Penelope. But that’s as far as I’ll compromise.”
It sounded as if he was doing her a favor.
“Suit yourself, Ahwin.”
Penelope answered with an internal scoff.
Ahwin bristled and muttered irritably, “Penelope, do people often tell you you’re strange?”
“I’m confident I’m not as strange as you, Ahwin.”
“…”
For a moment, Ahwin looked genuinely shocked.
He, the pride and heart of the Mage Tower, a wizard’s wizard. The pinnacle of magical prowess.
Never in his life had he been spoken to like this.
“I really don’t understand how the world works anymore,” he muttered.
“Neither do I,” Penelope replied with a wry smile.
***
The following day, the soap was finally ready.
The finished product was a beautiful green soap, subtly streaked with an emerald hue.
Ahwin conducted several tests, discarding the less effective soaps and keeping only the ones where the green herb extract had been perfectly incorporated.
Penelope distributed the remaining soap among the maids, instructing them to wash their hands and faces.
When the maids returned after washing, Penelope asked expectantly, “How is it?”
“My skin feels much more hydrated.”
“It’s so smooth and shiny!”
“It’s like my face is glowing!”
The maids eagerly shared their thoughts. For something as simple as a single wash with the green herb soap, their reactions were surprisingly positive.
“What about the scent?”
“It’s not bad.”
“I quite like it. The gentle green herb fragrance feels fresh, almost healthy.”
“I’m not a fan, to be honest. I’ve always disliked this herb’s smell.”
“I see…”
Penelope meticulously jotted down their feedback in her notebook. It was clear that the soap’s scent needed improvement.
Meanwhile, Ahwin stood nearby, arms crossed with his usual grumpy expression.
He suppressed a yawn, evidence that he had likely been up all night again.
Whoever broke his heart must’ve really left a mark, Penelope thought, faintly amused.
Is heartbreak trending these days? Did everyone at the Mage Tower collectively get dumped or something?
She froze for a moment.
Wait, no. Could he be the Mage Tower Master? Nah, that’s ridiculous. Why would the Mage Tower Master be here?
It was absurd to think someone of that stature would be working in her poor northern territory for a mere 15,000 gold.
Besides, the Mage Tower Master… is supposed to be like a big, fluffy dog. Gentle and affectionate.
Penelope dismissed the far-fetched idea with a shake of her head.
“For now, I’d like everyone to use the green herb soap for a week to monitor its effects. Would you all be willing to help with that?”
“Of course!”
“It would be an honor to help!”
“Leave it to us!”
The maids, all now sporting radiant faces, responded enthusiastically.
Penelope smiled, feeling that this was a promising start.
Gasps of surprise rippled through the room. Her smile was such a rare sight that many of the maids were seeing it for the first time.
“You’re free to go now.”
“We’re truly happy to help.”
“It’s going to be a success, I’m sure of it.”
“We’re always rooting for you!”
The flushed-faced maids dispersed, each carrying a bar of soap.
Penelope turned to Ahwin.
He had been staring at her absentmindedly but quickly averted his gaze when she looked his way. Trying to mask his embarrassment, he raised an eyebrow as if challenging her.
“What? What is it?”
“I was just thinking you should go and rest. You look utterly exhausted,” Penelope said matter-of-factly.
Ahwin scowled deeply.
“Why are you back to using formal speech again? Weren’t you done with that?”
“Well, I was reminded that you’re a Mage Tower-trained wizard. You’re skilled, incredibly powerful, and deserve respect,” she said with a sweet but faintly teasing tone.
“And you’re only realizing that now?”
Ahwin felt his drowsiness vanish instantly.