I Don't Know the Original, I'm Too Busy Trying to Make a Living-Chapter 172

"Why? This is probably the safest spot... The students have all rushed out to the main road."

If they wandered outside the school walls and ran into the townspeople, it could easily turn into an impromptu fan meeting. Here, hidden behind the wall, was definitely the better option.

Ahwin seemed about to explain something but suddenly furrowed his brow. Penelope turned her gaze in the direction he was looking, her eyes widening in shock.

A woman was climbing over the school wall, and their eyes met.

Long braided red hair, large green eyes, pale skin dusted with faint freckles—there was no mistaking her.

Penelope instinctively pointed. "Yvette?"

"Lady Penelope?"

Yvette’s voice came out louder than she intended. Realizing her mistake, she quickly clamped her hands over her mouth and glanced around nervously. Before Penelope could stop her, Yvette leapt down from the wall.

"Yvette!" Penelope cried, alarmed.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Ahwin snapped his fingers. Yvette’s descent slowed mid-air, and she gently floated to the ground.

“Magic...?” Yvette muttered, staring at Ahwin in bewilderment.

Penelope let out a sigh of relief despite herself.

What in the world is going on now?

This content is taken from fгeewebnovёl.com.

Rising to her feet, Penelope brushed the grass and dirt off her skirt. She gave Ahwin a pointed look, and he stood up as if nothing had happened.

Clearing her throat loudly, Penelope tried to compose herself. Being caught mid-embrace with Ahwin had thrown her off, but she couldn’t ignore the situation at hand.

“So, Yvette, what are you doing here?”

“Ah, I...”

“...?”

Yvette hesitated, averting her gaze with a deeply embarrassed expression. Penelope was just as puzzled.

Why is Yvette here?

Yvette was the daughter of the Count of Corindel—a noble lady of considerable standing. While her mother was known for a less-than-stellar reputation, the Corindel family wasn’t on the verge of collapse.

Yet here was Yvette, caught climbing a wall like a common sneak.

And what on earth is she wearing?

As her initial shock wore off, Penelope began to notice the details of Yvette’s appearance.

She was dressed in a simple shirt and overalls. While not exactly trying to disguise herself as a man, the outfit looked entirely out of place for someone of her status.

The shirt was wrinkled, the overalls were stained in multiple places, and the whole ensemble suggested she hadn’t changed in days. Penelope couldn’t help but wonder if Yvette had been sleeping rough.

Never mind all of that—why is she here, in Halo territory, of all places? And looking like this?

Unable to suppress her curiosity, Penelope asked, “How did you end up here?”

“...”

Yvette avoided her gaze, staring off into the distance as if searching for an answer in the clouds. It was painfully clear she had no reasonable explanation, and she seemed deeply embarrassed to be seen in such a state.

Finally, she lowered her eyes and began to speak.

“The truth is, I...”

At that moment, a loud growling noise echoed in the air.

Grrrrrr!

It came from Yvette’s stomach, but it was loud enough to startle Penelope, who nearly mistook it for cannon fire.

Yvette’s face flushed bright red as she mumbled in a voice barely above a whisper, “I... I know this is terribly rude, but... may I have something to eat?”

“...”

Penelope stared at her, utterly speechless.

***

Yvette devoured her stew with fervor, barely pausing to breathe.

She had already polished off the beef stew, mushroom soup, a thick slice of bread, and a pasta dish made with potatoes and tomatoes. (Penelope had even caught her hesitating as though she might lick the soup bowl clean.)

Ahwin watched her with folded arms, his expression one of utter disdain.

I really don’t like her, his face practically screamed.

It was clear he was sulking, probably because their date had been interrupted. His grumpy demeanor, though mildly irritating, was also one of the reasons Penelope found him endearing.

Penelope cleared her throat and said, “You should eat more slowly. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Cough—oh, I’m sorry! I just haven’t eaten in so long... Could I maybe have another bowl of soup? It’s just so delicious.”

Yvette’s request was timid but earnest, and there was no doubt she hadn’t eaten properly in quite some time.

Penelope nodded silently, and Giselle swiftly disappeared into the kitchen. Laura, clutching her chest as though overwhelmed by the unexpected scene, stood frozen in place.

At the dining room entrance, Dorothy, one of the maids, gave Laura a subtle signal. In response, Laura narrowed her eyes and gestured sternly for everyone to stay out.

But it wasn’t just Dorothy lingering outside. The kitchen staff and other maids peeked in from the doorway, stealing glances at the extraordinary sight of Yvette’s ravenous appetite.

To be fair, in a place without entertainment like food shows, Yvette’s eating habits were indeed remarkable.

After finishing another bowl of the head chef’s meticulously prepared mushroom soup, Yvette still seemed unsatisfied, biting on her fork as if pondering whether to ask for more.

“This is dessert,” Giselle announced as she set down the final dish—a peach tart thinly layered with delicate slices of peach.

“Peaches?” Penelope asked, her tone brightening.

“Yes, Milady. You ordered twenty crates of peaches to be delivered to the castle. The sight of the carts overflowing with them was astonishing. You should’ve seen the chef—he nearly fainted.”

“I sent those so everyone could share and enjoy them,” Penelope replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Did you? Oh my goodness! The chef didn’t know and has been turning them all into jam!” Giselle exclaimed in dismay.

Twenty crates of peaches, mostly turned into jam. That explained the overwhelmingly sweet scent that had filled the dining hall earlier.

Giselle, clearly concerned about the peaches’ fate, began pacing in agitation. Laura appeared equally distressed.

“You’d better go check on it,” Penelope said, giving her permission.

“Understood!”

Giselle dashed toward the kitchen, and Laura followed close behind.

A commotion erupted almost immediately. The sounds of shouting and frantic activity echoed back into the dining room.

“No! Not my peaches!” came the head chef’s desperate cry from the distance.

Yvette, startled by the racket, froze mid-bite. When her gaze met Penelope’s, she shrank slightly.

With a soft smile, Penelope said, “You can explain your situation while enjoying your dessert.”

“Ah....”

Yvette hesitated, her lips parting as though to speak, but she instead speared a piece of the peach tart with her fork. Cutting a neat bite, she took it into her mouth, her expression melting into bliss at the sweet flavor.

Penelope waited patiently, watching Yvette with calm curiosity.

Finally, Yvette began to speak, her explanation a tangled mess of words.

“My mother... she started pushing for my engagement to Grand Duke Rahinsel. She even went to the grand duke’s estate herself, but he didn’t seem particularly opposed to the idea. When I asked him about it, he was indifferent. He doesn’t care about me at all, and I certainly don’t care about him! It’s so obvious! But still, the prospect of a political marriage... I felt like I had no way out, so... I ran away.”

So that’s why she had fled.

Yvette’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she finished her story.

In short, she had run away from home to avoid a marriage she didn’t want.

Penelope asked the next logical question. “How did you get all the way here?”

“I hitched a ride with a merchant caravan. There are plenty of traders traveling between the capital and Halo,” Yvette admitted.

“My goodness.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped.

Even if the Corindel family wasn’t as powerful as it once was, Yvette was still a noble lady. To think she had traveled so far on merchant wagons, unaccompanied—it was astonishing.

If she ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) were my daughter, she’d get an earful, Penelope thought, unable to suppress a sigh.

Still, she couldn’t help but understand Yvette’s desperation.

How much must she have hated the idea of that marriage to go this far?

Had Penelope regained her past-life memories just a few months earlier, she might have done the same—run away to avoid marrying the former Baron of Halo. Being forced into a sudden marriage with a man she’d never met, to a family on the brink of ruin, had been an unthinkable nightmare.

Yvette’s determination not to marry without love was, in a way, strikingly similar to Penelope’s own sentiments.

She might even be braver than me, Penelope admitted inwardly.

At least Penelope had her past-life knowledge to guide her, whereas Yvette had fled with nothing but sheer willpower. It was impressive.

Still, one thing about Yvette’s story nagged at her.