Chapter 43
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43
As expected, the Kailas Mansion was a monument to grandeur. Even the Fellon estate was of no small size, but the ducal residence was so vast it felt more like a palace than a home.
No matter how large it is, it’s still just a house where people live, Harriet told herself, trying to stave off the intimidation.
As her carriage pulled up to the entrance, a distinguished-looking footman approached and courteously escorted her inside.
“Lady Listerwell’s audience will begin precisely at half past eleven. I shall first show you to the waiting room.”
Following him into the mansion, Harriet was surprised by the sheer number of people milling about the ground-floor lobby. They all appeared to be nobles of significant standing; some were deep in conversation, while others, like Harriet, followed footmen to various destinations.
The atmosphere was a far cry from the Fellon estate, where guests were a rare sight.
“Are all these people here to see the Duke?” Harriet asked in a low voice.
The footman replied with a polite smile. “Some are here to see the Grand Duchess, and others are retainers of the House, but it seems the majority have business with His Grace.”
“Ah…”
Harriet felt a flush of embarrassment. She realized how naive she’d been to think an audience with the Duke of Kailas would be simple. She had merely been lucky; he was a man who stood at the pinnacle of the Empire’s social hierarchy, constantly meeting people and making pivotal decisions.
If she squandered today’s opportunity, the chance to discuss business or investment with Cedric would never come again.
“Please wait here for a moment.”
The waiting room the footman led her to was modest in size but so exquisitely appointed it could have passed for a formal drawing room. On one wall hung a portrait of the first Duke and Duchess of Kailas. The moment Harriet saw the former Duchess, she realized how much Cedric resembled his mother.
He’s the spitting image of her. It seems Duke Rowan Kailas only passed down his soldier’s build to his son.
Of course, Rowan Kailas was handsome enough to justify the rumors that Imperial Princess Jeremia had loved him passionately, but compared to Cedric, who exuded a certain languid grace, the father possessed a much colder, drier image.
Furthermore, the couple in the portrait did not look particularly affectionate.
The circumstances of their marriage were common knowledge among the nobility: the Imperial Princess’s relentless, one-sided pursuit; Rowan, unable to refuse a proposal from the Imperial Family but incapable of returning her love; and the Princess herself, taking a string of lovers in a desperate attempt to provoke his jealousy.
But Rowan had simply looked the other way. Eventually, the Princess gave up on love entirely, changing lovers whenever the whim struck her.
It’s strange they never divorced, despite all that.
Harriet couldn’t fathom the point of a marriage devoid of love, trust, respect, or even basic consideration. Was this the norm among the high nobility? Did the relationship between husband and wife simply not matter as long as an heir was produced?
Considering Cedric Kailas—the child born to those two—is praised as the true master of this house, perhaps that is the case.
Although the Imperial Family had bestowed the ducal title upon Rowan because they couldn't marry a princess to a mere second son of a Viscount, everyone knew that Jeremia was the true source of that title and the family’s immense wealth.
Perhaps because the couple was so distant, the Imperial Family regarded the House of Kailas more as a "cadet branch of the Imperial House." Moreover, Cedric had inherited the Imperial blood so strongly that it wouldn't have been strange to think Jeremia had borne him alone.
It was said that many had subtly disregarded Rowan during his tenure, but once Cedric inherited the title, the respect commanded by the House of Kailas grew exponentially.
In any case, he couldn't have had a normal upbringing.
Honestly, it was a world she couldn't quite imagine. While the thought of a child growing up amidst such parental discord was regrettable, Cedric Kailas looked as though he had possessed his current composed demeanor since the day he was born.
As she tilted her head, trying to imagine him as a child, the door on the opposite side of the room clicked open. An older man approached.
“You’ve waited long enough. Please follow me.”
“Ah, yes!”
Harriet, momentarily forgetting Roxana’s lessons on elegant deportment, shot up from her seat. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt a nervous ache in her stomach, but she gritted her teeth and followed the man, who appeared to be the butler, into the drawing room.
“Please have a seat. His Grace will be with you shortly.”
Though the butler surely knew who Harriet was, he gave no sign of it, treating her with the utmost courtesy. His demeanor was a sharp contrast to the guards she had encountered previously.
The sofa was comfortably plush. On the left side of the marble table, an inkwell and pen were neatly arranged. The fact that the pen was placed within easy reach of the host, not the guest, carried a clear message.
The Duke of Kailas holds the initiative in every contract signed here.
Harriet smiled bitterly. How many people had tried and failed to sway Cedric Kailas’s mind in this very room? Then again, if one managed to get this far, it meant the proposal had already survived his assistants' scrutiny. Perhaps the chances of success were higher than she feared?
Or perhaps she would be one of the rare cases to fail.
Am I… doing something completely absurd?
Would the House of Kailas, which invested in massive, empire-spanning ventures, even be interested in something as trivial as selling soap?
Her mind began to go blank. Just then, the door on the far side opened, and a tall man entered. The moment she saw his golden hair catching the summer sunlight, she knew it was Cedric.
Harriet rose, waited for him to approach, and performed a perfect curtsy. Cedric watched her in silence before speaking.
“I couldn’t help but wonder what business could be so pressing for someone who was once so desperate not to sully my name.”
Harriet forced her lips into a tight, feigned smile.
So he’s been holding a grudge about that.
She couldn't afford to snap back before she’d even presented her business plan. However, a strange spark of defiance prevented her from being entirely submissive.
“Last time, given Sir Julian’s involvement, I was merely concerned Your Grace might be judged by the company you kept. I apologize if my attempt at discretion felt like a slight to your character.”
It was a sharp, sarcastic jab: I was trying to protect you, and you’re sulking because you didn't realize it. It was a subtext both Harriet and Cedric understood perfectly, yet one he couldn't openly call her out on.
To her surprise, Cedric seemed to find it amusing. He let out a sudden, unreserved burst of laughter.
So that’s what he looks like when he actually laughs.
To be precise, it wasn't that she had never seen him smile. Even from a distance, he always wore a pleasant expression that suggested a good personality. But this laughter felt genuine. She couldn't quite pinpoint the difference, but she felt it.
Even so, she reminded herself not to be fooled by his relaxed air.
He’s a veteran of these dealings. Even that expression could be calculated.
Gritting her teeth to keep her composure, she watched as Cedric offered her a seat.
“Please, sit. I’m not so impatient as to make you pitch while standing.”
Even the way he sat on the sofa possessed a natural elegance. Harriet squared her shoulders and straightened her back, determined to appear confident.
“I ask that you set aside any rumors you’ve heard about me—whether from the convent or the Vanderbilt party. I am here today strictly for business.”
Cedric’s crimson eyes glinted. He gave a slight nod but remained silent.
Being forced onto the defensive made her feel as though she were being pulled into his rhythm, but she had no choice. She was the one who needed him.
“Before we discuss the details, I would like you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”
“What secrets are you so keen to keep?”
“You might think it’s nothing significant, but this business plan contains details known only to me. Surely other businesspeople make similar requests?”
If word got out that the products from Saint Clarissa Convent were superior, others would undoubtedly try to hijack the contract by promising higher profits. She had already secured an exclusive contract to prevent that, but in this world, one could never be too careful.
Cedric didn't argue. He simply scrawled his signature at the bottom of the document she provided.
“Very well. Let’s see these details that require such secrecy.”