I Don’t Know the Original, I’m Too Busy Trying to Make a Living

“A high-ranking noble will face extreme opposition from those around them. How could they possibly be a good match? I just don’t want our lady to suffer,” Giselle said firmly, cutting through the chatter. Another maid nodded in agreement, but there were still plenty who opposed her view.

“Don’t you know love can overcome anything? Haven’t you ever read a novel?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Reality is harsh, and you need to understand that.”

…What kind of nonsense was this? It was as if they had transformed into prophets of imagination.

Ahwin couldn’t bear to listen to their absurd conversation any longer.

He deliberately made his footsteps louder as he walked, and the lively chatter came to an abrupt halt.

The first to recognize him was Giselle.

“Oh, Master Ahwin! Are you on your way to the reception room? I can guide you there.”

“Why? Do you think I don’t know where the reception room is?”

“I also have business with the lady…”

“Don’t follow me.”

Ahwin shot a cold glance at the maids, silencing them instantly. They were servants, yet they dared to gossip so freely without understanding their place.

And what? Deciding who Penelope suits better?

No matter how young or naive they were, it was unthinkable that they would openly speak such nonsense with so much enthusiasm.

I’ll have to warn Penelope about this. This kind of thing needs to be nipped in the bud.

***

Meanwhile, Penelope was rummaging through a shelf. With Lianel occupying her office, she had been forced to use the reception room, where an unorganized pile of belongings had accumulated.

Just then, the door to the reception room swung open without warning.

"Oh, you’re here?"

Penelope, humming a song from her past life, turned to see Ahwin. He stared at her blankly for a moment before furrowing his brows deeply.

What’s gotten him upset this time?

In a casual tone, Penelope asked, "Looks like the snow has let up a bit, don’t you think?"

"…It’ll probably stop completely soon."

Ahwin’s expression was oddly deflated.

Penelope found his mood both baffling and endearing, and before she knew it, she let out a small chuckle.

Pulling a noticeable box from the shelf she had been searching, Penelope caught Ahwin’s curiosity. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the box.

"What do you think this is?"

"How should I know? But don’t tell me you—"

Penelope didn’t wait for him to finish. Her curiosity about the contents had already taken over.

"Ta-da!"

As she opened the lid, Ahwin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh! A chess set. Do you know how to play, Ahwin?"

"…I’ve been playing chess since I was three," he replied absentmindedly.

Penelope blinked at his answer, then laid out the chessboard on the table.

"But you…"

"What? You said you can play. Are you backing out now?"

Ahwin hesitated for a moment before taking the seat opposite her. The chess pieces, divided into black and white, were set up on the board.

Penelope moved a piece carefully, deep in thought.

She lost the first game spectacularly.

And the second.

By the third game, Penelope was thinking harder than ever, debating whether to move her queen or knight.

Had she known that Ahwin hadn’t lost a game since he was five, she might not have been so determined.

As Penelope, arms crossed, pondered her next move, Ahwin suddenly made an unexpected comment.

"The maids were saying strange things about you."

"What kind of things?"

"That they hope you’ll end up with either me or Lianel."

Huh? What is he talking about now?

Startled by his words, Penelope looked up at him.

"You should probably put a stop to it. It’s a sign of how little respect they have for their mistress if they’re gossiping like that behind your back."

Penelope moved her knight and scratched the back of her neck.

"I don’t think they meant anything bad by it. Don’t take what the servants chatter about too seriously."

"But you’re still grieving the loss of your husband. Isn’t it thoughtless of them to talk like that?"

"…"

Penelope averted her gaze, awkwardly clamping her mouth shut. It seemed Ahwin had grossly misunderstood her.

When have I ever looked like I’m grieving? And why is he so sensitive today?

Talking about Lianel and Ahwin was probably one of the maids’ few sources of entertainment these days. Penelope didn’t want to spoil their fun by creating a cold atmosphere.

She carefully opened her mouth to speak.

"They’re just young maids making thoughtless comments. You should let it go."

"But what if their careless words reach the wrong ears? What if strange rumors start spreading about you? What then?"

"I don’t know? As long as it doesn’t get back to me, I don’t really care. It’s not like I can control everything people say."

"I’m talking about your reputation and honor."

Ahwin’s tone was unusually serious. He seemed genuinely worried about scandals involving a noblewoman.

But Penelope thought differently. Unless she could magically seal everyone’s mouths, there was no way to stop all rumors about her.

Think about it—how many stories could spread about a young noble widow not long after her husband’s passing? The possibilities were endless.

Besides, it wasn’t something she could—or even wanted to—control.

On top of that, Penelope had no intention of living her life as a model of noble propriety.

"Why are you getting so worked up? It’s not like me dating someone would be that big of a deal."

"Wha… what?!"

Ahwin’s jaw dropped, and his eyes whirled with something akin to a storm.

"You… you might date someone else?"

"Of course."

And if she were to date, it would certainly be someone handsome.

Marriage was another matter, but dating was her freedom.

Even in the conservative northern territory, people didn’t meddle in a widow’s romantic life to such an extent.

Moreover, it wasn’t uncommon for nobles to have lovers or remarry. Society, while appearing closed, was surprisingly open.

Once I adopt a branch family’s child to inherit the estate, remarriage is an option too.

If nothing else, Penelope was determined to have a proper romantic relationship. She had never experienced one, in either her previous life or her current one.

The more I think about it, the more infuriating it is.

She had poured her youth into grueling studies, graduated from a prestigious university, and landed a job at a top corporation—only to work herself to death, all to meet her parents’ expectations. She had thought that was the right path.

As a result, love had always taken a back seat.

In her past life, and now in her current one, romance had been a disaster.

In this life, she had entered a marriage of convenience, leaving no room for emotional attachment to her husband.

Why didn’t I ever get to experience something so wonderful?

Hiding her simmering frustration, Penelope made a vow.

In this life, she would have a sweet, affectionate romance.

But first, I need to become young, rich, and successful.

Penelope earnestly pictured her future. She didn’t notice how deeply shaken Ahwin was.

It was a moment where someone’s worldview could be completely overturned, inviting the most unpredictable thoughts.

And Ahwin’s thought was this:

No matter who the man by Penelope’s side was, he would never be to Ahwin’s liking.

***

The snow had finally stopped.

For the first time in a long while, life returned to Halo Castle.

The servants were busy clearing the accumulated snow and conducting a thorough cleaning. They washed piles of laundry and hung the wet clothes out to dry in the backyard.

Penelope, having finished her morning tasks, sat down for tea time with Lianel and Ahwin.

Strangely enough, the two men had recently made a habit of visiting her reception room every day. They would drink tea, engage in light and trivial conversation, and then return to their respective rooms.

Occasionally, they would glance at each other as if probing, their gazes sharp and wary. It was reminiscent of massive predators growling and circling before an inevitable clash.

They were notorious for disliking each other in the original story. But to think they’d engage in these subtle battles even during tea time.

Penelope found their behavior somewhat pathetic but made a conscious effort to ignore it. She had no intention of becoming collateral damage in their cold war.

Knock, knock.@@novelbin@@

"My lady, it’s the steward."

"Come in."

The steward entered, his face slightly flushed as if he had hurried to deliver news. He wasted no time in stating his business.

"My lady, the merchant guild leader, Pablo, has arrived."

"Right now?"

"Yes. He’s waiting in the hallway."

Penelope was startled. Although the snow had stopped, the main roads were still covered with it.

Traveling through the snow must have been difficult for carriages. Could it be that the main road has already been cleared?

At that moment, Lianel, who had been calmly sipping tea across from her, spoke up.

"It seems you have a visitor."

Penelope offered him a polite smile.

"It seems the carriages can move along the main road again. Shall we conclude here for today?"

Despite her suggestion, Lianel made no move to leave his seat.