"I was just wondering how your stomach’s doing..."
Ahwin’s comment was a roundabout way of asking if she could handle more stimulating food.
Having missed dinner last night, Penelope was ravenous. But after eating the bland chicken soup, she found herself desperately craving something spicy, salty, or sweet.
Ahwin chuckled softly and replied, "Your stomach’s fine now, but stick to soup for the time being."
"Why? What do you mean by that?"
"It’s your punishment for scaring everyone in the house half to death."
Penelope’s face fell into a pout. She couldn’t think of a good retort.
After all, she had been brought home unconscious, having vomited blood after drinking poison. The people in the house must have been terrified, especially Giselle, who was likely the most delicate among them.
Grinding her teeth inwardly, Penelope cursed the assassin.
‘That vile assassin! And the one who hired them! If I catch them, they’re finished!’
Not just the assassin, but whoever orchestrated the attempt would be brought to justice and made to face the full weight of the law.
‘Eye for an eye, poison for poison would be ideal... but.’
Imperial law wouldn’t permit such retribution. However, the highest sentence under the law was still an option.
‘At the very least, it should be execution. A beheading or hanging wouldn’t be too bad.’
"Are you not eating? Even if you don’t have much of an appetite, you need to eat properly," Sane’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Penelope snapped back to reality, realizing with some guilt that she’d been thinking far too cruelly in front of young, innocent Sane.
She quietly picked up her spoon and resumed eating the chicken soup.
Somehow, after imagining the assassin’s sentencing, even the bland soup tasted much better.
***
For the next few days, Penelope stayed in strict bed rest, though, truthfully, she found it rather dull.
For someone who had narrowly escaped being poisoned, she was in remarkably good health.
The novelty of lounging in bed wore off after two days, and by the third, she was itching to go outside.
Ahwin, apparently just as fed up with the confinement, began preparing to go out early in the morning.
"I’ll be heading out for a bit. Behave yourself while I’m gone."
"Where are you going?"
"I got word that the hairdryer project has made some progress."
"Really?"
Penelope’s eyes lit up with anticipation, but Ahwin pulled up the hood of his robe, signaling there was no room for negotiation.
"I’ll be back. Make sure you take care of the house while I’m gone."
"..."
‘I’m not a dog, why would I need to guard the house?’
Penelope thought but didn’t say. Ahwin didn’t even glance back as he left, his robes fluttering dramatically behind him.
In his absence, a mountain of gifts arrived for her. Since Ahwin had forbidden visitors, citing ongoing dangers from the assassination attempt, other nobles had sent gifts instead.
To pass the time, Penelope and Giselle spent the day unwrapping the packages.
The gifts mostly consisted of bouquets.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
‘Of course, flowers are the safest gift for a patient.’
There were other notable items as well—high-quality potions, tonics, exotic teas, fountain pens with ornate feathered quills, pocket watches, and brooches.
While it was fun to admire the variety of tastes among the nobles, the thought of having to reciprocate the gestures later felt overwhelming.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Too healthy for my own good," Penelope replied immediately. Giselle folded her arms skeptically.
"You need to stay rested."
"I’m telling you, I feel perfectly fine..."
Penelope insisted, but Giselle gave her a stern look.
"You scared us all half to death that night. Ahwin’s face turned pale, and he was sweating bullets as he stayed by your side all night, taking care of you."
"I know, and I’m truly grateful for that," Penelope said earnestly.
Grateful, yes—but she still wanted a bit of freedom, even if it was just within the house.
Her curiosity burned regarding the assassin’s fate and, more importantly, the identity of the mastermind behind the attempt.
‘Could it be one of Baron Halo’s distant relatives? Or perhaps another lord envious of the territory’s development?’
Penelope glanced at Giselle, debating whether to voice her thoughts, but before she could, her boredom was interrupted by a visitor.
It was Rianel, carrying an armful of roses in white, pink, and purple hues.
Penelope greeted him with a bright smile and accepted the bouquet.
"Thank you. Please, come in."
Rianel glanced at the room filled with flowers, cleared his throat, and said, "How are you feeling?"
"I’m perfectly fine. Ahwin’s detox magic worked wonders," she replied.
"Even so, you should keep monitoring yourself for any lingering effects," he advised.
"Yes..."
Penelope’s voice trailed off, sensing that Rianel, like Ahwin, was itching to lecture her.
Rianel began, "I’m on my way back from handing over the mastermind behind the assassination attempt."
"The damned—wait, who was it?"
"Baron Halo’s uncle and aunt—Daniel and Fiora. Do you know them?"
Penelope wasn’t particularly surprised. They were among her top suspects.
For those who coveted the territory’s immense wealth, Penelope was nothing more than a thorn in their side.
‘Wanting the title is one thing, but trying to poison their nephew’s wife? That’s beyond extreme.’
Their mentality was something she couldn’t comprehend, nor did she want to.
‘Poisoning someone is excruciating. I wish they could experience it themselves!’
She suppressed the urge to spit curses, mindful of Rianel’s presence.
"Will they face trial?"
"They will. And the other distant relatives of the Halo family are also under investigation."
Penelope furrowed her brows.
"But you said you caught the mastermind?"
"Daniel and Fiora hired the assassins, but other relatives might have conspired with them. It’s best to uproot the problem entirely," Rianel said matter-of-factly.
Penelope narrowed her eyes.
‘Am I hearing this wrong?’
It almost sounded as if Rianel planned to implicate the other relatives, guilty or not.
‘No way... Would he really go that far for something that isn’t even his concern?’
She dismissed the thought and asked what had been on her mind.
"When is the trial?"
"The first hearing is next Monday. Would you like to attend?"
"If I’m allowed to. I’d love to be there to see the ones who tried to kill me receive their sentences. I want to laugh in their faces."
Her eyes glimmered with determination, and Rianel gave her a faint, curious smile.
"Why are you smiling like that? Did I say something strange?"
"No. I find it admirable that you’re willing to confront those who hate you enough to want you dead."
"Is that so? Honestly, if I could, I’d make them drink the poison I had to endure."
"An excellent idea. If you wish, I could arrange that for you," Rianel said casually.
"...Seriously? Is that even possible?"
Wouldn’t killing someone already convicted be illegal?
As Penelope stared at him, stunned, Rianel nodded as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"That much is within my power. And I assure you, I would not get caught."
"Ah..."
A chill ran down Penelope’s spine. Rianel’s words didn’t sound like a bluff.
‘This man... He’ll do it if he says he will.’
She recalled the time he effortlessly eliminated assassins with a precision shot to the head. Handling imprisoned conspirators would likely be trivial for him.
"I think it’s fine to leave things as they are. I wouldn’t want to trouble you that much... Haha," Penelope said nervously.
"A shame. I would have enjoyed owing you a favor."
Wait, what does he mean by that?
Penelope’s eyes darted around anxiously, but Rianel simply watched her, as if studying her reactions.
Forcing a smile, she said, "You’ve already done plenty to help me!"
Rianel’s expression shifted, becoming calm and composed. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Does my behavior make you uncomfortable?"