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

Chapter 102

Finally, the day of the trial was just one day away.

Until then, Penelope remained holed up in her bedroom. No, more accurately, she wasn’t allowed to leave.

It was all because of Ahwin’s insistence.

"Have you thought about how it would look to others if someone who almost got poisoned to death appears perfectly healthy?"

"...They’d think I look healthy?"

"You’re supposed to be barely clinging to life, weakened to your core after surviving a poisoning attempt."

But I was never weak, and I’m not even sick. How am I supposed to pretend to be sick?

Ahwin, as if reading her inner thoughts, gave her a pointed look.

"You can move freely at home, but in the courtroom, act as frail as possible. That will sway the trial in your favor."

"Ah, I understand completely."

Ahwin’s strategy was simple: to make the judge sympathetic to Penelope’s plight by having her put on an act.

If it meant gaining the judge’s favor, Penelope thought she could even muster up some dramatic tears.

Thus, she spent her days lounging in bed, taking what felt like her first proper vacation in a long time. When bored, she read Foundations of Magic by Professor Olan.

Her impression of the book was straightforward:

‘I have no idea what it’s saying.’

Losing interest in the book, Penelope sprawled out on her stomach and began sketching new designs, inspired by the hairdryer.

‘If a hairdryer is possible, couldn’t we make a vacuum cleaner too?’

The principle of sucking in air seemed similar enough.

Penelope sketched the shape of a vacuum cleaner and jotted down the parts she could think of: an air intake, a motor, a paper filter, a dust collection case, a long nozzle, a main body, and even wheels on the body.

"Ugh, this is tricky," she muttered, frowning in thought. She had used vacuums plenty of times but had never considered how they actually worked.

Just as she was deep in thought—

Knock, knock.

"It’s Martin. May I come in?"

The sound of knocking was followed by the butler’s voice. Penelope quickly sat up and responded.

"Come in."

The butler entered with a polite bow, his expression cautious as he asked, "A merchant named Pablo has come to see you. Is he someone you wish to meet?"

Penelope’s jaw dropped.

"Ah! Pablo! I completely forgot about him! No wonder something felt off!"

She quickly answered, "Please escort him to the drawing room. I’ll be there shortly."

"Understood."

When Penelope arrived at the drawing room, she found Pablo pacing nervously, too anxious to even sit. His face was filled with unease.

Penelope greeted him warmly, "Pablo, it’s been a while. How have you been?"

"My lady! Are you feeling alright?!"

Pablo rushed over to her, examining her with frantic concern.

She deliberated over which color would make her look sicker and eventually chose white.

‘White is the classic color for patients.’

She donned a pure white dress with no patterns and added a veil. However, the result was overly conspicuous—her appearance was radiant and bright.

Draped from head to toe in white fabric, she looked more festive than frail.

Both Ahwin and Lucas shook their heads in unison.

"You look too healthy."

"Black would be better," Lucas suggested.

Following their advice, Penelope changed into a black dress.

When she paired the black dress with a white veil, everyone nodded in approval. It was a classic combination that emphasized the image of a delicate and fragile lady.

Once Penelope was ready, Ahwin stepped forward.

"I’ll escort you today," he said.

Penelope blinked in surprise.

"Why?"

"Over forty people saw you in my arms when we left the ball. Pretending nothing happened now would be ridiculous."

"...."

So, I was carried out of the ballroom in Ahwin’s arms, huh.

Penelope sniffled lightly and took Ahwin’s hand as they boarded the carriage.

As they approached the courthouse, Penelope began to feel increasingly tense. The imposing atmosphere of the courtroom was getting to her.

‘Even though I haven’t done anything wrong, I feel oddly guilty.’

The courtroom buzzed with murmurs, the voices of onlookers carrying even outside.

"To think someone dared to poison their lord..."

"Such despicable people."

"This is an opportunity to set a firm example."

"Indeed. They must be punished so harshly that no one dares to attempt such a thing again."

The nobles were united in their outrage over the incident. Most of them held power in their own households and lived under constant threat of poisoning. To them, retaliation for an attempt like this had to be exceptionally severe.

As Penelope entered the courtroom, the noisy crowd fell silent at once.

"......."

All eyes turned to her.

Dressed in an unadorned black gown with a white veil, Penelope’s appearance stirred protective instincts among the nobles.

"That must be her..."

"She can’t be more than twenty years old. She’s younger than I thought."

"To lose her husband was bad enough, but to be poisoned by his relatives? How pitiful."

"I heard Her Majesty the Empress was so outraged by the incident that she immediately granted her the title of Lady of Halo."

Ladies with ornate fans exchanged sympathetic glances, while several men clenched their fists and glared at the empty defendant's stand.