"This is my nephew's house, and his aunt can't even walk around freely? Out of my way!"
"Ma'am, please, you can’t behave like this."
"What do you mean I can't? Are you, a mere servant, daring to disrespect me? I am the late Baron Halo’s aunt!"
The voice grew clearer and louder. Penelope felt a sense of foreboding.
Finally, an unfamiliar woman stormed into the lobby. She was wearing an outdated dress that was ridiculously ornate and excessively voluminous, resembling an oversized peacock.
So, this must be Fiora Elaik, Penelope thought. My late husband's aunt.
Fiora scrutinized Penelope from head to toe, clicking her tongue in apparent displeasure.
"So, I finally get to see your face," she said curtly.
"......."
"I am Fiora Elaik, your deceased husband's aunt," Fiora declared, her tone dripping with self-importance.
Penelope could barely process her words. She was so taken aback that she found herself at a rare loss for words.
Fiora frowned and raised her voice.
"There’s not a shred of courtesy among the people in this castle! Why haven’t you greeted me yet?"
"......."
Penelope stared at Fiora for a moment, then glanced at the steward. His expression was as dark as storm clouds.
It was then that Penelope understood the situation.
Ah, she’s here to leech off me.
Having seen this kind of scene countless times in dramas during her previous life, she wasn’t particularly shocked. Just exasperated.
Life really does throw everything at you, doesn’t it?
"Nice to meet you. I’m Penelope Ash Halo," she said, placing a hand over her chest and introducing herself formally.
Before Penelope could say anything more, Fiora’s lips began trembling, and then, out of nowhere, tears started streaming down her face.
"Poor Jake! How could I lose you? This cannot be! Bring Jake back to me!"
Fiora’s wailing grew louder and louder, causing the servants nearby to pale. The steward rushed over, trying to steady her.
"Lady Elaik, please, calm yourself..."
"How can I possibly calm down? My poor, unfortunate Jake—why did he have to go into the northern forest? Who pushed him into that monster-infested place?"
"......."
Penelope, once again, found herself at a loss for words.
He went there of his own accord.
Fiora was behaving as though Baron Halo had been cruelly wronged.
If someone had held a knife to his throat, at least there’d be something to lament. But how many people died because of that man?
Baron Halo had ventured into the northern forest to hunt monsters and harvest mana crystals, hoping for a quick fortune.
But the territory’s residents, who had spent their lives cultivating herbs, had no expertise in monster hunting. Even Baron Halo himself was woefully incompetent with a sword.
On the day he died, over twenty residents also lost their lives, swept up in the disastrous hunt. Penelope remembered how gut-wrenching it had been to conduct their funerals, mourning the senseless deaths of so many young people.
He was such a reckless and incompetent man.
"Madam! What is the meaning of this? Why are you crying here?"
A middle-aged man, unfamiliar to Penelope, rushed in to support Fiora. He seemed to be her husband.
In other words, Penelope’s late husband’s uncle by marriage.
"Mother!"
Now a young boy dashed over, presumably Fiora’s son. It appeared the entire family had come.
Fiora’s husband shouted at the maids in a stern voice.
"What are you standing around for? Escort the madam to a room at once!"
The frightened maids scrambled to obey, hastily guiding Fiora toward the stairs. She leaned heavily on them as she was led away, her husband and son following close behind.
It felt as though a massive storm had swept through.
After a long silence, Penelope turned to the steward, who let out a deep, weary sigh.
Finally, Penelope grasped the situation fully.
Huh. Look at that. They’re trying to stage a bloodless coup.
For a moment, she felt as though her life had suddenly turned into a chaotic melodrama.
***
"Lady Elaik has calmed down," Giselle reported as Penelope looked up from organizing her documents.
Lady Elaik... ah, her.
Just thinking about her late husband’s aunt, who had caused such a commotion upon arriving at the castle, gave Penelope a headache.
Giselle hesitated for a moment before speaking again.
"But... Lady Elaik says her room is too small. She’s asking if she could be given a larger one. What should we do?"
"......."
Penelope's headache worsened. The only room larger than the guest rooms was Baron Halo’s former chamber.
What? Am I supposed to play along with such a blatant ploy?
She nearly laughed at the audacity of it.
Penelope wasn’t naive enough not to understand why her late husband’s relatives, who hadn’t even shown their faces at his funeral, had suddenly appeared.
Oh, I’ve seen this kind of scene plenty of times in dramas.
In her previous life, she had watched countless stories about family feuds over wealth and power in chaebol families. That kind of melodrama was a staple of the genre.
It was entertaining to watch on screen, but living through it was a different matter entirely.
Penelope spoke up.
"Giselle, could you call the steward for me?"
The steward, still looking grim from the events earlier that day, soon arrived.
"You called for me, my lady?"
Penelope got straight to the point.
"Since her marriage, has Lady Elaik ever visited Halo Castle?"
"...Not even once," the steward replied after a brief hesitation.
Penelope nodded as if she had expected that answer.
"Then, in your opinion, why do you think Lady Elaik and her husband have come here?"
"......."
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The steward didn’t answer.
Penelope smirked faintly. She didn’t need his response; the answer was obvious.
"Please invite Lady Elaik and her husband to the drawing room. I suppose I should hear what they have to say."
A short while later, Fiora and her husband entered the drawing room. The maids served them tea.
After sipping her tea with exaggerated grace, Fiora finally spoke.
"I must apologize. I acted terribly earlier, overcome with emotion."
"It’s understandable, Lady Elaik. It’s only natural for you to grieve your nephew’s death," Penelope replied politely.
"When I heard of Jake’s death, it felt like the sky was falling. I must visit his grave to pay my respects," Fiora said, her tone heavy with sorrow.
"That would be appropriate," Penelope agreed.
Her husband quickly interjected, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
"It’s late today, so it would be better to go tomorrow."
"......."
The steward’s expression grew stiffer.
Penelope maintained her composure and replied, "I appreciate your thoughtfulness in visiting my husband’s grave."
"It’s only natural. He was my one and only nephew," Fiora said, her voice filled with self-importance as she straightened her posture.
"But," Fiora added, leaning forward slightly.
Here it comes, Penelope thought, quietly bracing herself to listen.
"The room is far too cramped. Since we can’t use the baron’s chamber, each of us should be given our own room. And we’ll need a personal maid for each of us as well."
"......."
The steward’s expression darkened visibly.
The castle was already short on staff. Assigning personal maids to Fiora and her family would overburden the remaining servants, leaving them no time to rest.
Fiora placed her teacup on the table with a loud clink and continued.
"We’ll be dining in the grand hall tonight, of course?"
"Ah, that hall is currently under repair, so we’ve been having meals in the drawing room," Penelope replied.
"Tsk, how unbefitting of nobility. Dining in the drawing room? You’ll have to clear out all this clutter and properly host us there," Fiora said, gesturing at the neatly stacked documents on a shelf.
She hadn’t even been invited to dinner but was already acting as if it were a given.
Wow, the audacity.
Penelope had expected this to some extent but was still taken aback by the sheer boldness.
It was clear that Fiora had come with the sole purpose of wringing every possible advantage out of Penelope.
"And these teacups are far too old. You should replace them with something more fashionable from the capital. Call a merchant guild, and I’ll select them myself. In fact, there are plenty of things here that need replacing."
"These teacups are indeed old," Penelope said calmly. "They’ve been used in the family for generations."
"I remember them from before I got married. They’re antiques now, and they should be discarded. Once you’ve replaced the furnishings in the castle, you’ll need to host tea parties, readings, and balls to properly fulfill your duties as the lady of the castle."
Fiora rattled off her demands with growing enthusiasm.
The steward, now holding his forehead as if to stave off a headache, looked utterly defeated.
Fiora was behaving as though she were already the mistress of the castle.
Revealing her intentions so quickly... is she just plain foolish?
In dramas, antagonists usually cozied up to the protagonist first, waiting for the right moment to betray them. But Fiora had laid all her cards on the table from the start—a rookie mistake.
Still, Penelope found it easier to deal with this kind of blunt approach.
"Forgive me, but I must say..." Penelope interrupted with a bright smile, cutting off Fiora mid-sentence.