I Don't Know the Original, I'm Too Busy Trying to Make a Living-Chapter 163

“Yes, it’s the treasurer.”

“Come in.”

The treasurer opened the door to the study, only to freeze momentarily at the sight before him. He quickly composed his expression, though his astonishment was evident. Unsurprisingly, he carried yet another stack of documents.

“There are urgent papers that require your approval. Please review these first.”

“....”

The treasurer placed the pile he was holding onto her already overflowing desk and, to make room, moved some of the other papers to the floor.

So that’s how the papers ended up on the floor. Penelope found herself learning an utterly useless fact.

From that moment, Penelope began meticulously reviewing the documents. She told herself she was a paperwork-processing robot, which helped her focus better.

As she worked through the stack, stamping each document mechanically, she couldn’t help but dwell on her regret.

Ah, life was better when my parents were still here.

She found herself missing her family already. Perhaps the saying, “Cherish them while they’re around,” was true for a reason.

But her family was already gone, and there was no pulling them back. The only thing she could do now was concentrate on the task in front of her.

This handwriting is crooked... Is the paper defective? Should I ask them to redo it? Ugh.

She noticed minor, trivial issues that only served to distract her. Every time her focus wavered, she made a conscious effort to reel it back in.

Though her mind wandered at first, she gradually immersed herself in the task.

She began to think of herself as a warhorse charging through battle, pushing forward relentlessly.

Oh! The Tower wants to establish a branch ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) in Halo!

This was a monumental piece of news. A Tower branch in Halo would mean the estate could purchase goods from the Tower without incurring transportation costs or fees. Moreover, it would offer invaluable support for public safety, firefighting, and monster extermination efforts.

This has to be approved immediately.

Penelope dove into the documents with renewed vigor, her eyes scanning line after line without pause.

Three days later.

“I did it.”

Penelope muttered with a hollow voice, her face pale and gaunt. It felt as though the dark circles under her eyes had reached her cheeks.

Through sheer determination, she had successfully stamped the majority of the urgent documents.

Of course, there was still an enormous mountain of paperwork left to review, but those weren’t as time-sensitive. She had even set aside a few urgent documents for revision or additional details, instructing her staff to rework them as needed.

At least I put out the biggest fires.

She felt like a melted scoop of ice cream. She had poured every ounce of energy into the task and could no longer bear to look at another word.

Sensing her exhaustion, Giselle brought her a cup of strong coffee and a slice of cake.

Penelope grabbed whatever was closest and stuffed it into her mouth.

The caffeine and sugar coursing through her system gave her a fleeting sense of clarity. Then, an emptiness crept in.

“Where’s Ahwin, by the way?”

“Have you not seen him, Lady Penelope? I believe he’s been in his room. I haven’t seen him for two days,” Giselle replied.

Penelope blinked in surprise and nodded. It was true—she hadn’t seen him at all. She had assumed he’d stopped by during the brief moments when she managed to snatch some sleep.

Given how engrossed she had been in the paperwork, Ahwin’s absence wouldn’t have made much of a difference, but she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. It had been three whole days since she’d seen even a shadow of him.

Is that mage caught up in some strange research again? Or is he genuinely resting for once?

Penelope pursed her lips in frustration. Sure, she had told him to rest, but who rests for three days straight? She couldn’t fathom how someone so oblivious and scatterbrained had managed to excel in magic.

What is that insufferable mage up to right now?

Fuming, she shot up from her seat and stormed down the hallway.

Reaching Ahwin’s room didn’t take long—it was just down the corridor. The realization that he had been so close yet unseen for three whole days only fueled her irritation.

Knock, knock.

Penelope banged on the door repeatedly, like a debt collector demanding payment. Just before her patience completely ran out, the door finally creaked open.

Surprisingly—or not—Ahwin stood there looking completely put together. He was as polished and handsome as when he had first met her parents. His earlobes were slightly flushed, but Penelope barely noticed.

“Where have you been while I’ve been drowning in work? Didn’t you say you’d help?” she demanded.

“Well, uh, I... just thought of a few things I wanted to research,” he stammered. “You finished the documents already?”

So he had really been doing research? Penelope’s brows shot up skeptically.

“I’ve cleared the urgent ones,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I guess whatever you were working on was pretty important, huh?”

She put every ounce of effort into controlling her irritation, though Ahwin’s increasingly reddening face didn’t escape her notice. He wasn’t even meeting her eyes properly, and his stammering was uncharacteristic.

What’s with him? Why is he so flustered? she thought. Then a dreadful idea struck her.

Could it be... was dealing with my parents too much for him? Has he lost affection for me because of it?

It seemed like a plausible theory.

In her past life, she had seen countless stories of relationships crumbling under the strain of dealing with in-laws. There was even a term for the stress that came with family gatherings during holidays. Ahwin must have felt a similar pressure.

Now that I think about it, it makes sense, she mused, narrowing her eyes at him.

Until now, Ahwin had always been wherever she was, practically wearing out the hinges on her doors. The sudden absence of his visits could only mean one thing.

“So, what’s going on?” she asked sharply.

“What’s going on with what?” Ahwin replied, avoiding her gaze.

Penelope was now convinced. “You’re sick of me, aren’t you? Have you fallen out of love with me?”

“...What?”

Ahwin’s eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. Penelope suddenly felt lightheaded.

Why is the room spinning?

The truth was, she was utterly exhausted after pulling two all-nighters. Her cognitive abilities were barely functioning, and her physical state wasn’t much better. If she hadn’t had coffee and cake earlier, she wouldn’t have even made it this far.

Ahwin finally found his voice. “Fallen out of love? How did you even reach that conclusion?”

“You haven’t come to see me. You’ve been so close by, but you didn’t even drop by to say hi. Don’t you want to see me anymore?” she said, punctuating her question with a massive yawn.

Her vision blurred. She realized, to her amazement, that a person could be so tired they could fall asleep standing up.

“...That’s ridiculous,” Ahwin muttered.

“What?” Penelope blinked, trying to focus on his words.

“I said it’s ridiculous. It’s completely unfair!” he huffed, his voice tinged with frustration. He looked genuinely upset, which puzzled Penelope even more.

“Unfair? You think this is unfair? I’ve been working nonstop without sleep, and you’re saying you’re the one who’s upset?” she said, punctuating her words with another yawn. “I’m sorry, okay?”

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Ahwin was left speechless, staring at her incredulously. She rubbed her dry eyes and yawned yet again—it was her fourth one so far.

Penelope, feeling mortified, covered her mouth with her hand. If she yawned one more time, she feared she might actually scare away what was left of his affection for her. Even she had her limits as a proper lady.

But no amount of embarrassment could overpower exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, but can we talk after I’ve had some sleep?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“...Fine,” Ahwin replied with a stiff nod, though his face turned an even deeper shade of red.

At least he doesn’t seem to hate me, Penelope thought, relieved.

Satisfied for the moment, she turned and headed back to her room.

The next morning, Penelope woke to the sight of her bedroom ceiling. She blinked groggily before turning her head to the side.

On the shelf nearby, a colorful array of bottles caught her eye. The sight was oddly familiar.

Still half-asleep, she murmured, “...Potions?”

“If you’re awake, you should start with the green one,” came a voice.

“Giselle?” Penelope muttered, her eyes scanning the room. She spotted Giselle standing near the bathroom, holding a large towel. Laura stood beside her.

Penelope finally registered where she was: her room in the lord’s castle.

“Did Ahwin stop by while I was asleep?” she asked, her voice still groggy.