After a few hours had passed, Naavah finished answering all the invitations. There weren’t many events they agreed to attend, but given their recent wedding, they had a good reason to refuse most of them. This way, no one would be able to judge them harshly for it.
Fyodor, on the other hand, hadn’t even gone through half the documents. He wasn’t even aware that she had been staring at him because he was so absorbed in his work.
"Should I simply excuse myself and let him get on with it? Or should I ask for more documents to take care of?" she thought, licking her lips.
She switched gazes between Fyodor and the seemingly never-ending stacks of documents and cleared her throat to gain his attention. She pointed at the invitations with her index finger and watched him closely to see if he was satisfied or not. It was her first task as the lady of the house, and while she didn’t expect him to check every letter, she wanted to see him pleased.
A few words of praise from him were enough to make her ask for more work. Fyodor remained silent for a moment, musing, before taking a few sheets of paper from his drawer's desk and handing them over to her, along with two other reports.
“This is the report with all the necessary medications that we have to buy. Quantities, reasons for it, you name it. The second report is the official document that you must complete. The third report is a guide for you. It contains what you need to write in the second report. Good luck!”
She stared at him, stupefied, blinking several times. Despite her desire, she wasn’t expecting him to assign her a new task so quickly. His gaze made her flinch, and she shook her head, finally glancing at the reports in front of her. Those were some of the new investments he needed to make. They were about medical potions for people all over his land who needed them. All she had to do was follow the instructions from the third report, read the information from the first one, do some calculations, and write everything down in the second document. The official document should be sent to the mail post by tomorrow morning in order to be processed and the transaction to be completed. The date stated on it revealed this.
Looking at the first report, she read the names of complex medicinal potions that were supposed to treat painful diseases. Some of them sounded familiar to her, as she had helped her herbology teacher before and had the opportunity to learn about such complicated potions. Other ones were not well-known to her. Naavah studied them when she attempted to find a cure for her own curse but never had the chance to touch and experiment with the herbs they contained.
She began to do her task, and for a couple more hours, the office was quiet. Only the sound of the pen touching the paper could be heard. The teapot cooled down with the liquid in it, and some of the candles went out. However, no one entered the room to interrupt the two. Both Naavah and Fyodor were engrossed in their work, trying to get it done as quickly as possible, but not for the same reasons. While Naavah wanted to help him and possibly have time to do another task, Fyodor had to finish most of them by early in the morning. Spending the previous day with her was not planned, and he was behind schedule. However, he did not regret it even once.
After two hours, Naavah raised her head and spoke,
“I finished the documents. Can you take a look at them, please?”
He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
“I want to make sure everything is alright.”
Her heart was pounding out of eagerness. It was her first time writing an official document by herself. No one had ever entrusted her with such a task. She hoped that her previous knowledge of herbs and potions would help her comprehend the information provided and make a wise choice on how many potions to buy.
As she saw him take the document and the first report in his hands, her palms began to sweat. In doubt, she started to question her judgment and quality of work, reconsidering the whole process of deciding about if they should invest in some more pieces of some medical potions or not and the total price. When she wrote a larger number of specific potions, she thought about the effects they had and assumed they would help more people when needed. Besides, she was convinced that they should be prepared as much as possible for unexpected circumstances. Therefore, for her, the final cost was reasonable.
“Hmm,” he said, while reading and analyzing each page she wrote, “This is not exactly accurate. In the first report, it is stated that only five villagers need Sepptumaul for their sight perturbations, and each one of them needs only two milligrams of the potion per month, which is one bottle for all five of them. And yet, in the official document, you registered a purchase for three bottles. Sepptumaul doesn’t maintain its properties for that long. That’s why we buy it monthly,” he explained calmly.
She pursed her lips, and her heart sank. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably.
“Also, there are no additional notes regarding the names of medical diagnoses or the full medical prescription for Gogliume. This is a potion for heart diseases, and every alchemist who sells this remedy needs all of this information in order to further obtain the necessary ingredients for it. This was pointed out in the third report.”
Naavah was rendered speechless by the overwhelming sense of failure. She realized at that moment that if she hadn’t asked for his second opinion, she would have lost the opportunity to purchase the essential prescription for those with heart conditions and would have incurred a significant financial loss. Being bold enough to accept dealing with this investment document was a mistake. She was not prepared at all, she thought. As a result, she saw herself as a failure and of no help to anyone.
She rose from the chair slowly, lowering her gaze. She was embarrassed, ashamed, and disoriented, feeling dizzy and fearing what he would think of her in light of this situation. Naavah’s vanity never prevented her from acknowledging her faults. This time, though, it was her husband who saw her shortcomings and lack of ability. And she wanted him to maintain his good opinion of her. With a flushed face and shaking hands, she spoke,
“I apologize for my lack of judgment. I will see myself out of the room.”
He nodded and told her to wait for him in the main room to dine together. And although he smiled in an attempt to reassure her, it was a bittersweet smile. However, she didn’t see it. And she didn't want to see it.
She walked awkwardly, her steps uneven. She swayed. Numbness enveloped her, spreading up her body from the feet. Her thoughts were consumed with the failure, causing her suffering. She wondered why she even wanted to try to complete such a difficult task. She must have been more aware of her own abilities and acknowledged her limits. That was what Naavah thought, without even considering another attempt to redo the document, to redeem her mistake. And it was understandable. After all, sometimes it's not the fact that you're wrong that gets you down, but who you're wrong in front of. It is the mistake that negatively impacts the opinion of others about you that makes you lose confidence, boldness, and the will to try again. Being seen as worthless by dear ones pierces deep.
As she approached the door, her footsteps became smaller and slower. Suddenly, Linda’s words from her first night in the manor came to her mind.
‘He was thrilled and couldn’t help but talk about your beauty, intelligence, and confidence and how many things you will accomplish when you get here.’
“How many things I will accomplish,” she repeated in her mind with sadness.
At that time, she was worried and afraid of the possibility of letting him down. However, now she was doing precisely that. She halted and took notice of a faint pain spreading through her chest. Frowning, she realized she was stopping from helping him, which was what she had promised herself not to do. And for what? He didn’t shout at her, nor did he blame her for anything. Closing her eyes tightly, she gained all the remaining courage she still had. She turned around and said with a serious and firm tone,
“Actually,” she began, panting softly, “It was my fault, so let me fix it.”
Fyodor smiled with delight as he heard her words, but Naavah could not see it since his mouth was covered by a piece of paper. He nodded and looked down at the chair she had sat in before, motioning for her to sit down again. She gladly complied.
