Chapter 44
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 44
Harriet’s heart hammered against her ribs. She worried he might scoff—that he’d ask if a simple soap business, a trade already saturated by others, truly warranted a non-disclosure agreement.
But she had come too far to retreat now.
“Here is the business proposal. I prepared it in advance, thinking it would save time if you reviewed it first.”
She had deemed the document perfect when she last checked it this morning, but now, as she pulled it out, she felt as if a glaring flaw might manifest on the page at any moment.
Cedric took the document and quietly turned the pages, one by one.
‘So this is what it feels like to be on pins and needles.’
What if he threw it down? Had she come here for nothing?
Just as her resolve began to waver, she recalled the advice of Roxana, who had been instrumental in helping her draft the proposal.
“Half of what it takes to succeed in business is thorough preparation, and the other half is pure guts. No matter how perfect a proposal is, if the entrepreneur appears timid, no investor will entrust them with their capital.”
How did she look to Cedric right now? Was he finding it amusing that she, who had been so arrogant and brazen until now, was finally hanging on his every move just to secure a loan? Did she really deserve to feel this small?
No, there was no need to be afraid. Cedric was not the arbiter of her life or death.
‘I even refused this man’s offer of support when I was about to leave the convent with nothing. Where did all that grit go?’
Harriet took a deep, silent breath and looked Cedric straight in the eye.
His eyelashes were long and thick, cast downward as he focused on the text. The eyes that briefly appeared with each blink looked grave, stripped of their usual playful glint.
Finally, having read the very last page down to the final character, he set the document down and straightened his posture.
“Honestly…”
Gulp.
Harriet heard the sound of her own throat tightening as she swallowed. She prayed he hadn't heard it too.
“While there are a few interesting points, I cannot fully trust the competitiveness of the product itself. Whether a convent can produce better soap than a company specializing in beauty products is…”
In that instant, memories of stirring heavy pots for hours flooded back, and a surge of defiance rose within her.
“Are you comparing my soap to products made in factories? To things boiled in unwashed vats and filled with unverified chemicals and synthetic fragrances?”
“If you use such language in public, you should be prepared for a lawsuit.”
“But none of the products I investigated disclosed the exact fragrances or foaming agents used in their soaps. You couldn’t find that information anywhere on the packaging. How is that any different from being unverified?”
In the past, the hives and acne that had plagued Harriet’s face and body might have been caused by many factors, but she was certain that commercially available soaps and cosmetics had played a part.
“Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb products disclose every ingredient. These are components that have been used for generations; we can guarantee their safety. The nuns in the workshop even taste the soap to ensure it is tempered correctly.”
“But it isn’t as if such soaps don’t exist at all,” Cedric countered. “The olive soap from Natarixen is world-famous.”
“But Harriet Listerwell isn’t there.”
Harriet allowed a faint, knowing smile to touch her lips. The key to this business, beyond the excellence of the product, was the presence of a model who could command the public’s obsession.
“A good product alone doesn’t guarantee sales. There must be an element that compels people to buy. In this business, that element is me—Harriet Listerwell.”
“Quite… confident, aren’t you?”
“It isn’t baseless confidence. It is shocking enough that a scandal maker who was cooped up in a convent for a year has reappeared in high society. But on top of that, her face—once marred by skin disease—is now completely clear.”
Only then did Cedric lean back into the sofa, a look of genuine satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
“Everyone will be curious about your secret,” he mused. “And that is when you sell them the Saint Clarissa products that you yourself found effective.”
“That is why I am pressed for time. I need to get things moving before the buzz dies down.”
Cedric’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Miss Harriet, in business dealings, you should never show that you are in a hurry. It is as good as admitting defeat.”
“From the way you’re speaking, it seems you aren’t particularly interested in gaining the upper hand with me.”
“Pfft, hahahaha!”
He couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Even when his father was the Family Head, Cedric had often sat in such meetings as part of his successor training. Since formally inheriting the ducal title, he had met countless entrepreneurs and nobles. Among them, there had been no one quite like Harriet.
She was brazen and bold, yet unpredictably unpolished.
Cedric decided he had done well to grant Harriet’s request for an audience. Truly, this woman never gave him a dull moment.
“As a reward for making me laugh, I’ll point out a few flaws. It would be better to secure a storefront in Seviol rather than Peyton. You looked into the Harrow Merchant Guild for distribution, but they don’t have a trade route toward Saint Clarissa Convent. They’ll charge you exorbitant delivery fees.”
He began offering detailed advice on locations, distributors, and logistics. It was a level of engagement Harriet hadn't anticipated.
‘Is he telling me to revise the proposal and then go find someone else?’
If that was the case, she had nothing to lose. Harriet clenched her fists and spoke up.
“If Your Grace invests, we could use the Aster Merchant Guild, which handles the Ducal House’s distribution. Since they have the most extensive network, we could save on costs, and they would be better equipped to handle products sensitive to temperature changes.”
At her words, Cedric rested his chin in his hand, a faint smile playing on his face.
“It isn’t a business that would bring significant profit to me or the House of Kailas.”
“I know. But even knowing that, I sought you out first because I wondered if you might be willing to help Saint Clarissa Convent.”
Harriet finally revealed the card she had saved for the very end.
She explained that the convent’s long-cherished project, the ‘Girls’ Haven,’ had only begun thanks to his previous donations. However, nearby orphanages had suddenly closed, causing an influx of girls seeking refuge. The convent couldn't postpone the project, yet they had no way to secure the additional funds needed to house them all.
“Saint Clarissa Convent does not receive many donations. To protect the lives of girls with nowhere else to go, they need a long-term, sustainable source of income.”
“So, Miss Harriet, are you saying you conceived this business not for your own profit, but for the convent?”
“I’m not that altruistic,” she admitted. “I simply saw it as a way to help both the convent and myself.”
Cedric nodded, seemingly satisfied with her honesty. “Very well. I’ll invest.”
“Really?” Harriet blurted out, caught off guard by his sudden acceptance.
“You asked me to invest, did you not?”
“I—yes, I did. I just meant… I’m glad.”
“Since you said you’re in a hurry, I’ll brief my aide on the details today. First, we need to secure a store.”
After a moment of thought, he rang the bell on the table. A man who appeared to be his aide materialized silently.
“I recall an empty storefront becoming available on Seriol Street about two weeks ago,” Cedric said.
“Yes, Your Grace. We are currently vetting potential tenants.”
“The search is over. It’s just been decided.”
As Harriet watched with a bewildered expression, Cedric picked up the business proposal again, flipped through it, and continued.
“You’ve set the initial expenses—including rent, distribution, and advertising—at 200,000 Dirham, with a projected net profit of 50,000 Dirham for the first three months. Let’s raise the bar.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means we should expand the scale. It makes no sense for the House of Kailas to get involved only to see a quarterly income of a mere 50,000 Dirham.”
He picked up a pen, drew double lines through various sections of her proposal, and scribbled new figures above them.
“The monthly rent for the Seriol store owned by the Duchy is 80,000 Dirham.”
“What?!”
“I’ll only charge you half price.”
Even at half price, it was 10,000 Dirham more than the 30,000 Dirham rent Harriet had initially envisioned. However, considering it was a prime location on Seriol Street, the price was more than exceptional—it was a steal.
“For distribution, we will use the Aster Merchant Guild. Contrary to your expectations, they are more expensive than the others. But as you mentioned, their delivery is faster and their product management is superior.”
“Th-then, perhaps another guild…”
“If I am the one investing, where did you learn the business ethics that suggest we shouldn't use our guild? I am only cutting the rent on the condition that we use the Aster Merchant Guild.”
“Ah… yes, Your Grace.”
From that point on, Harriet felt completely swept up in his pace, as if Cedric had taken the reins and was dragging her toward a future far larger than she had ever imagined.