Chapter 52
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 52
"Um, how... how can I get my hands on some of that soap? I have a party in a few days, and I really need my skin to look better by then."
"Why the sudden urgency?"
"...Someone important is coming."
Aha.
Harriet found it almost cute to see Viviana so desperate to look good for the man she liked. It wasn't long ago that she had found the girl nothing but a nuisance.
Letting out a soft chuckle, Harriet pulled out a small, pre-wrapped package. She had known the moment Viviana requested a visit that she was coming for the soap.
"Where is this party being held? I thought the only events happening lately were for the older ladies."
"Sir James is hosting it for Bella’s sake—oh!"
Viviana, answering without thinking, clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened as if she’d just leaked a state secret.
As Harriet had learned many times over, nothing piqued curiosity quite like someone abruptly cutting themselves off.
"Why the sudden silence? Is it something I’m not supposed to know?"
Harriet fiddled with the package, looking as though she might hand it over at any second, her eyes fixed on Viviana.
Oh, what should I do? Viviana bit her lip.
She shouldn't have mentioned Bella’s party. It had been a slip of the tongue, but Bella had been adamant that Harriet must not hear a word about it.
"I can't send Harriet an invitation because of Father, and I'm afraid she'll be upset if she finds out."
That was the excuse Bella had given, but Viviana knew better. That wasn't the real reason at all.
What do I do? What do I do?
Her greedy eyes remained glued to the package in Harriet’s hand. It was definitely the soap. If she used it, her acne would clear up, and her makeup would sit perfectly on the day of the party.
The news will break soon anyway. What difference do a few days make? Even if Harriet gets upset, it’s not like she can do anything about it.
Her internal calculations were finished in an instant.
"Ahem! Well, a lot of people attended your tea party last time, didn't they? I don't know if that’s what sparked it, but the very next day, Bella asked Sir James to host a party for her. An Evening Party."
"I see. And when is it?"
"...In ten days."
Harriet tilted her head with an air of innocent confusion.
"But why try to hide it from me? Did they really think I’d be that upset about not being invited?"
"Probably? They’ll be sending invitations to all the prominent young ladies in High Society soon enough."
"They’re holding it in ten days and still haven't sent out the invitations?"
Viviana hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
"She said they’d be sent out at the last minute. It seems... they’re doing everything they can to make sure you don't hear about it, Miss Harriet."
In other words, they were determined to exclude her. They were likely terrified she would show up and cause a scene if she had time to prepare.
Viviana’s intentions were equally transparent. She had betrayed her friend’s secret and now expected a suitable reward for the information.
Harriet laughed brightly.
"Why is Bella so wary of me? Since when has she been like that? Don't you think it's strange?"
"Ha... hahaha..."
Viviana joined in with a strained, awkward laugh. She seemed flustered that Harriet was laughing instead of flying into a rage.
"I hope the party is a success. And though I’m sure I don’t need to say this, I’ll keep it an absolute secret that I heard the news from you, Miss Viviana."
"Miss Harriet...!"
Viviana looked genuinely touched. She had been secretly worried about the fallout, and Harriet’s reassurance was a relief. Harriet smiled warmly as she handed over the package.
"Consider this a gift. Please don't tell anyone I gave it to you. Think of it as me simply supporting your love life. Understood?"
"Thank you so much!"
Viviana’s opinion of Harriet shifted instantly. Meeting her one-on-one today, she realized Harriet didn't seem to envy Bella at all, nor did she care for petty gossip about men.
She hadn't pried or made Viviana feel pathetic for wanting to look good for her crush; she had simply cheered her on. To think she has such a kind heart.
She’s a much better person than I thought.
Clutching more soap than she had dared hope for, Viviana left the estate in high spirits. As soon as she was gone, Harriet summoned an errand runner to deliver a letter to Cedric.
「I would like the store to open in ten days, on September 28th.」
She had already planned to open within the week, but Viviana had just handed her the perfect date on a silver platter.
I sincerely hope your party goes well, Bella.
I hope the guest list is grand, so that everyone can relay the most interesting news of the day back to you. May your most brilliant moment be overshadowed by me.
Harriet’s smile turned cold.
* * *
"Your Imperial Highness! It has been far too long. You look even more radiant than the last time we met."
"Your Imperial Highness? The current Princesses are Her Highness Sierra and Her Highness Hestia. I am simply Jeremia Kailas."
"My apologies. It’s just that the title feels so natural when addressing you."
Jeremia graciously brushed off the mistake. In truth, she was just as used to the title as they were, but today, her status wasn't the point.
"Now that the sun has set, the breeze is quite pleasant, isn't it?"
"Indeed. This summer was dreadfully hot."
"Even with my hats and parasols, the bridge of my nose and my cheekbones got a bit tanned."
"Me too! I sweated so much I even broke out in heat rash on my back..."
As the ladies reminisced about the sweltering summer, Jeremia subtly steered the conversation toward skincare. Since beauty was a perennial topic of interest, no one noticed the intentional shift.
Once the talk moved from heat rash to more general skin troubles like breakouts, Jeremia casually dropped her hook.
"I suffered from the same thing, but I was lucky enough to get my hands on a particular soap. My heat rash vanished completely, and my complexion has never been better. It was a godsend, truly."
Naturally, the questions poured in.
"What kind of soap was it?"
"They say it’s crafted at the Saint Clarissa Convent. Perhaps it’s been blessed? It really is wonderful."
"Made at Saint Clarissa? I’ve never heard of such a thing."
"I heard a store is opening on Seviol Street very soon. Once it does, I plan to send my servants to buy a massive stock. I use it every time I bathe, so I go through it quite quickly..."
"Oh, really?"
The ladies' eyes gleamed with interest.
Jeremia took care not to mention that the person who held the exclusive contract for that soap was her own son.
Will this be enough to satisfy Cedric?
She was a mother who lived with the daily reality of her son’s coldness, but today, she hoped she might have earned a few points. The fact that Cedric had brought up something other than dry pleasantries at dinner meant he expected her to play this role.
"...And recently, I've been making small investments in beauty businesses."
"You? Investing in beauty products? What’s come over you?"
"It was a business meant to help Saint Clarissa Convent become self-sufficient, so I couldn't simply ignore it. It would be wonderful if it gained some word-of-mouth, but I haven't found the right method yet."
Her son had continued eating as if nothing had happened, his expression an annoyingly perfect replica of his father’s. It would be so much easier if he just said what he wanted.
It’s all my fault, I suppose.
Jeremia smiled wistfully to herself.
* * *
The morning of September 28th arrived, carrying the crisp, full spirit of autumn.
On Seviol Street, the heart of the luxury district, a long queue of servants had already formed in front of a prime storefront. They had been sent by their masters to secure goods the moment the doors opened.
The shop was still closed, its windows covered in thick paper to keep prying eyes away.
"What’s going on? Why the crowd?"
"No idea. Is a new boutique opening?"
The number of curious onlookers grew by the minute.
At exactly 11:00 AM, the men standing guard like sentries stepped forward and tore away the paper covering the windows and the sign.
<Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb>
The name was written in refreshing shades of yellow and olive that immediately caught the eye. But what truly stopped people in their tracks was the massive poster plastered on the exterior wall.
"That face... I know I’ve seen her somewhere. Who is she?"
On an advertisement poster—a space usually reserved for famous actresses or opera singers—was a breathtakingly beautiful woman. Her hands were clasped as if in prayer, and a subtle, elegant smile played on her lips.
The servants in line tilted their heads in confusion, but a passing noble stopped dead in his tracks, pointing a finger in shock.
"That’s Harriet Listerwell!"
The news spread like wildfire. The soap, which had already generated immense buzz, was being launched with Harriet—the infamous scandal maker—as its face.
But even her detractors had to admit the marketing was genius.
"She’s the lady who spent a year at Saint Clarissa Convent, isn't she?"
"I heard she gave this soap out as a gift at her tea party!"