The administrator hesitantly spoke, his expression filled with discomfort.
“The outfit you’re wearing now is, no matter how I look at it... hmm...”
“It’s closer to work attire. And you wear nearly identical outfits every day, don’t you? Your taste is rather outdated,” the treasurer bluntly added.
Penelope was shocked. Work attire? Outdated?
She raised her voice in protest.
“I carefully selected this, I’ll have you know! If you look closely, the embroidery patterns on the dress are all different.”
The vassals collectively ignored her defense.
“For a dress suitable for the imperial banquet, we’ll have to procure one from the capital. There should be plenty of tailors there to choose from.”
“With the banquet in two weeks, we’ll need to leave as soon as tomorrow.”
“If we take the train from Pellar, we should arrive in two days.”
“That gives us 12 days to prepare. We’ll need to send someone immediately to arrange accommodations for you in the capital and find a tailor.”
“And we’ll also need to find a lady who can teach you court etiquette.”
At this, the vassals fell silent, their expressions darkening. None of them had any idea how to find someone to teach court etiquette in the capital.
They had never left the vicinity of Halo in their lives, much less encountered anything like imperial customs. Even when festivities occurred in the countryside, they were nothing more than lively markets filled with music, dancing, and drinking—far removed from refinement.
It was then that a voice broke through the silence.
“I believe I can assist with that.”
The vassals turned, startled, to see Lianel standing in the doorway of the office.
Shrugging his shoulders, Lianel spoke in a tone that was half-apologetic.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. The door was open.”
Penelope’s face turned exasperated.
It seemed the overly eager vassals had forgotten to shut the door in their haste, allowing Lianel to overhear everything.
The treasurer was the first to recover and asked cautiously,
“You can assist us, Lianel? Specifically, how?”
“I can arrange for a noblewoman who is well-versed in court etiquette to tutor Lady Penelope. I can also help secure a townhouse for her stay in the capital.”
The treasurer looked astonished.
“Can you really do that?”
“Um... isn’t a hotel good enough?” Penelope asked innocently.
The treasurer gave her a look of exasperation.
“As the lord of Halo, staying in a hotel would be inappropriate. It’s best to accept Lianel’s help in this matter.”
“Lianel’s help?”
The treasurer flinched at the sharp voice. Ahwin had entered the office, squeezing through the crowded room with a scowl.
“Is there a war going on or something? Why is it so packed in here?”
“Did you just wake up?” Penelope asked.
Ahwin didn’t reply, instead letting out a long yawn. His complexion was pale, and faint shadows darkened his eyes—clearly, he had been up late again.
Penelope had initially thought his sleeplessness was due to heartbreak, only to discover it was simply his natural mage tendencies.
‘Staying up all night reading grimoires and sleeping at dawn... What a routine.’
Even now, the realization filled her with a faint sense of betrayal.
“So, what’s going on?” Ahwin asked, his tone impatient.
“I received an invitation to the imperial banquet. It was sent personally by the Empress.”
“....”
Ahwin’s expression immediately darkened.
He turned to Lianel, who gave a small shrug.
“I know as much as you do. I only heard about it ten minutes before you did.”
“So, the Empress sent it directly to Penelope?”
“Yes,” Lianel confirmed.
Ahwin pressed a hand to his forehead, as though warding off a headache.
“Does she have to attend?”
“Did you hit your head while sleeping? The Empress sent it personally!” Penelope retorted.
“...Hah.”
Ahwin sighed deeply, looking as though he couldn’t make sense of the situation. He then turned to Penelope.
“For accommodations in the capital, you can use my residence.”
The vassals gasped in shock. Only the wealthiest of individuals owned property in the capital, and Ahwin’s casual mention of his residence revealed his staggering status.
Apparently, he had no intention of keeping his identity a secret.
Penelope raised her hand hesitantly.
“We also need someone to teach me court etiquette.”
“Why do you need that?” Ahwin asked, his tone dripping with disdain.
“To meet the Empress, of course. She sent me the invitation,” Penelope explained.
“I can’t help you with that.”
“I can,” Lianel interjected.
Ahwin shot Lianel a glare, and invisible sparks seemed to fly between the two.
‘So this is a love triangle.’
The vassals cleared their throats awkwardly and avoided making eye contact with anyone.
They were well aware of the rumors circulating in the manor—that both Ahwin and Lianel were vying for Penelope’s favor.
‘Ah, youth...’
The vassals had silently agreed not to meddle in their lord’s personal life, regardless of whom she chose.
“Lianel, there’s an urgent matter,” a voice suddenly called out.
The speaker was Lianel’s aide, Kael, who had entered the bustling office looking uneasy. He managed to make his way to Lianel’s side and whispered into his ear.
“The imperial messenger visited Pellar. His Majesty is summoning you.”
Lianel’s expression hardened.
***
The next day.
Penelope found herself in a carriage heading toward Pellar.
Sharing the carriage with her were Ahwin, Giselle, and Lucas. Following closely behind was another carriage carrying Lianel.
Penelope blinked absentmindedly.
‘Where am I? Who am I?’
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From waking up at dawn to rushing through preparations and getting into the carriage, it all felt like a blur.
‘How did a trip to the imperial palace get decided so suddenly? What happened to my peaceful routine?’
Her dream had always been simple: rebuild her small territory, amass wealth, and retire to a comfortable life. But that dream felt further and further away.
And now, the Empress had inserted herself into the picture.
It was as if an invasive predator had entered a small, tranquil pond meant only for minnows. Or perhaps, more aptly, a dragon had dipped its claws into the water.
This was all because of the Tower Master and the Northern Grand Duke.
Casting a sidelong glance at Ahwin, Penelope then narrowed her eyes at the carriage carrying Lianel.
She was determined to figure out which of the two had drawn the Empress’s attention.
‘Judging by the circumstances, it seems Lianel received an invitation to the imperial banquet as well. So, was it him?’
She wasn’t certain of anything yet.
On reflection, it was perfectly reasonable for the Grand Duke to be invited to a royal banquet. Who else but someone of his status would receive such an invitation?
‘Suppose it’s one of them. Then why did the Empress call for me?’
The Empress Penelope knew was the heroine of the original story—a woman who had been murdered by the Emperor, only to regress and succeed in her revenge. And she even found love along the way.
‘If I remember correctly, she didn’t exactly have a pleasant personality.’
Elizabeth used anything and anyone at her disposal to achieve her vengeance. And she never trusted anyone who had wronged her, even slightly, in her first life.
In other words, she embodied all the classic traits of a regressor.
‘If she’s invited me to the palace, it’s because she sees some use in me.’
Penelope nodded inwardly.
The Empress must have determined Penelope had value. Otherwise, why would she bother with a rural lord in the far northern countryside?
“What’s with the serious expression?”
Ahwin, seated across from her, asked nonchalantly.
Penelope shot back, “And what about you? You do realize you look incredibly serious right now, don’t you?”
“That’s because I didn’t get any sleep. Now’s the perfect time to catch up on it.”
“You need to fix your sleep schedule. Start waking up in the morning like a normal person.”
“You don’t understand. Concentration is so much better at night,” Ahwin replied confidently.
Seated beside him, Lucas unconsciously nodded in agreement before catching Giselle’s sharp glare.
“It’s easy to mess up your routine if you’re not careful. Keep this up, and you’ll harm your health,” Penelope warned.
“My body’s as strong as steel,” Ahwin boasted.
“You haven’t looked in a mirror recently, have you?”
“I’m fine. If it gets bad, I’ll just drink a potion.”
‘This man and his blind reliance on potions.’
Penelope grumbled to herself, low enough that no one could hear.
Suddenly, Giselle interjected into the conversation.
“Speaking of which, the road is so rough. It’s a half-day journey to the Grand Duchy, and our master must be so uncomfortable. That said, Ahwin, I think you should save those potions for our master. She’ll need them more.”