Pablo, who had just gulped down a glass of cool water handed to him by one of the clerks, began his report.
“I visited the soap workshop. They say if they work overnight, they’ll be able to produce enough green herb soap for tomorrow.”
“That’s a relief,” Penelope replied.
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“It looks like they’ll have to work through the night for the rest of the week, but we’ve secured enough staff to rotate shifts smoothly.”
“What about the supply of green herbs?”
“There’s more than enough. Thanks to you, my lady, we secured a bulk purchase of northern green herbs in advance.”
Indeed.
Penelope had taken advantage of a price dip to purchase a massive quantity of northern green herbs.
As a result, the northern farmers, who were considering abandoning their herb fields, were able to sell their harvest at a reasonable price and survive the harsh winter.
Of course, the biggest beneficiary was Penelope herself.
“Lady Rena, do you think we can keep the buy-one-get-one-free promotion going until the end of the week?”
“It should be fine. But honestly, I don’t think we need the promotion anymore. Customers would still flock to us even without it,” Rena replied.
Penelope turned to Pablo, who raised his hand as if to back her decision.
“I support your choice, my lady. And if supplies run low, we can always transport additional stock from Halo. It’s better to maximize our promotion while public interest is high.”
“Alright then, let’s continue the promotion until the end of the week.”
At Penelope’s decision, both Rena and Pablo nodded in agreement.
“Finally, I can relax.”
Penelope sighed with relief and collapsed into a chair. Ahwin, who had been quietly following her all day with his hood pulled low over his face, sat down beside her.
“Aren’t you pushing yourself too hard on the first day?”
“It’s the first day, so it’s only natural to push a little harder,” Penelope replied, letting her body sink into the chair’s backrest.
“I still can’t believe it. In just two weeks, I managed to open a proper shop and workshop in the capital.”
She still felt like she was dreaming.
Opening a store in the capital was the ultimate goal for many merchants, but success was far from guaranteed even after opening.
Yet here she was, running one of the most talked-about shops in the capital, outshining many established competitors.
“Though I am a bit exhausted.”
Penelope’s weary state didn’t escape Ahwin’s notice. Clicking his tongue, he remarked,
“I’ll admit you’ve got a knack for business, but maybe it’s time for you to rest.”
“Thanks for the compliment, Tower Master. Oh, that reminds me—I need to discuss something with Professor Olan, but I haven’t had a chance to meet him,” Penelope muttered.
Even in the brief respite, her mind immediately wandered to her next venture.
She hadn’t had the time to meet with Rector or Professor Olan lately, partly because of her busy schedule and partly because of how wildly successful the hairdryer business had become.
At the moment, the demand for hairdryers in the capital far surpassed that for green herb soap or cosmetics.
The moment the Magic Tower produced a new batch, it sold out immediately. The waiting list alone numbered in the thousands.
“I get it. Drying your hair is such a hassle... I really do understand that struggle.”
“What do you want to discuss with him?” Ahwin asked.
“I want to develop a device that uses heat to style hair—something like a curling iron.”
“A curling iron? What’s that for? And why would anyone need to style their hair?” Ahwin asked, his expression skeptical. He looked as though he was imagining some kind of torture device for hair.
“You’ve seen how noblewomen pin their hair into elegant curls, haven’t you? If you use a long, heated iron to shape the hair, you can achieve that look more easily. It creates a voluminous and elegant hairstyle.”
“People actually go through that kind of trouble for their hair?”
Ahwin’s expression was one of disbelief, as if the idea of putting so much effort into hair was utterly incomprehensible.
Somehow, Penelope already felt tired just trying to explain. Ahwin clearly had no idea how much effort people in this world, especially women, put into styling their hair.
And it wasn’t just women—noblemen were equally meticulous about their hair. Elegantly maintained hair was often considered a mark of beauty.
"Even my hair gets treated every morning. Giselle carefully applies scented oils, brushes it thoroughly, and uses a heated iron to create curls."
"Wait, that’s what you’re doing every morning in your room? You don’t need to do anything; you’re already beautiful."
"Anyway."
Penelope cut him off, her sharp gaze making it clear: That’s not the point right now.
Realizing he should probably pay attention, Ahwin finally gave her his full focus.
"Heating the iron takes too long, and it’s dangerous. I want to develop a magical device that’s safer and more convenient to use."
"Do you think it’ll sell?"
"It’ll sell. Absolutely."
Penelope’s confident tone left no room for doubt. Ahwin hesitated, his lips twitching as if to respond, before simply nodding in agreement.
"I can picture the basic mechanics, but what would it look like? Don’t tell me you’ve already drawn it in your notebook."
"Of course I have."
Penelope pulled out her small notebook from the bag she always carried. It was her most treasured possession.
She flipped through the pages and stopped at a particular sketch.
"Here, take a look at this."
Ahwin leaned closer to examine her drawing, his eyebrows faintly furrowing.
"...Tongs?"
"If it looks like tongs, then I’ve drawn it right. The heating element runs through here, and as the tongs clamp shut, the hair is heated and pressed."
"And this makes the hair curl?"
"This one is actually better for straightening hair. For curls, look at this design—see the rounded barrel in the middle? You secure the hair with the clamp and rotate the barrel to create smooth, rounded curls."
"..."
Ahwin stared at Penelope, whose eyes sparkled with excitement, and let out a quiet cough.
“Every time I see her ideas, I don’t know whether to be amazed or dumbfounded.”
He marveled at the ingenuity hidden in that small head of hers. Every invention she revealed left him in awe.
“The Magic Tower must’ve missed out on a genius.”
His eyes drifted to the corner of her notebook, where he noticed a small doodle: a dog and a cat growling at each other. It looked like something Penelope had scribbled absentmindedly.
“Huh?”
Ahwin’s eyebrows arched when he noticed tiny writing next to the cat. It read Ahwin.
"What’s this? Is this supposed to be me?"
"Ah, no! Why are you looking at someone else’s drawing?" Penelope quickly snatched the notebook back and hugged it to her chest, looking thoroughly suspicious.
Ahwin’s eyes narrowed.
"Why am I the cat?"
Of all things, being a menacing and massive dragon might have suited him better, yet here he was, represented as a cat. His pride was clearly wounded.
Penelope was baffled.
“Do you seriously not know why?”
Even standing on his head, he was either a fussy cat or a grumpy dog. Having to explain that felt like an exercise in futility.
Penelope’s lips twitched as she fought back the urge to respond. She could already imagine how much Ahwin would sulk if she told him the truth.
Ahwin placed his hands on his hips and leaned closer.
"Show me again. I need to see if I’m really the cat."
"No. Why would you pry into someone’s precious belongings?"
"Since when was that notebook precious? Besides, hiding it just makes you look more suspicious."
"Anyway, no. I’m tired, so I think it’s time to head home and rest."
Penelope coughed lightly to shift the topic, but Ahwin squinted at her, his gaze clearly unimpressed. Penelope avoided his eyes and busied herself pretending to tidy up.
At that moment, the shop door chimed, and Lucas entered.
"You’re finally here?" Penelope greeted him warmly.
"Yes, I’ve just returned from the merchants’ guild meeting. But..."
Lucas trailed off as he glanced between Penelope and Ahwin, instantly sensing the strange tension in the air.
Ignoring Ahwin’s piercing gaze, Penelope smiled and said,
"Thank you for attending the guild meeting on my behalf. I think I’ll head home now. Do you want to call it a day, too?"
"Ah, I’ll escort you home first. The outfits from the palace have arrived, and I’ve placed them in your bedroom. We should check to see if they fit properly—"
Lucas abruptly fell silent under the weight of Ahwin’s dark, brooding stare.