Chapter 56
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 56
“Yes. She is also someone who would never betray the convent—or me.”
Harriet smiled contentedly, thinking of Emma. Most of the recent correspondence regarding the business had come from her.
“I don’t want to become a nun either. But there’s truly no one else I can rely on.”
Emma had once confessed her envy of Harriet for securing Trisha as a new patron. Born in the slums, Emma had spent her life drifting from one relative’s house to another. Though her situation mirrored Harriet’s in some ways, her outlook was entirely different. She often described herself as being ‘too fond of money to ever become a nun.’
“Someday, I want to open a small shop. I’m confident I can sell anything, you know? I want to get rich, get married, and have children. I also want to make a massive donation to the convent. Not like those nobles who give a pittance just to put on a show, but a truly massive donation.”
Emma was a girl who viewed Catherine as her benefactor and lived within the convent walls, yet she never stopped dreaming of a future she feared would never come. Feeling for her, Harriet had earnestly urged her not to give up, promising that she would help her one day.
And that future is drawing closer, Emma.
Even now, Emma was the one assisting Catherine at the convent, organizing business matters and handling the letters sent to Harriet. She didn't know Harriet’s full plans yet, but if she continued like this, she would eventually be more than qualified to manage Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb.
“I’ve thought this since I first received the proposal, but you truly have planned every detail meticulously.”
“Even so, I’m sure it was riddled with flaws here and there.”
“Most people who come to me seeking much larger investments are far less organized than you were.”
As expected, Cedric didn't offer a polite ‘that’s not true.’ Harriet no longer felt disappointed by his bluntness.
“Thank you for the compliment. May I hope for your investment in my next venture as well?”
“That’s pushing your luck.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Harriet offered a faint smile, and Cedric responded with a similar expression.
“Then, I’ll see you next time.”
“Travel safely.”
Harriet gathered her documents and stood. Walking through the lobby of the Kailas Mansion no longer made her heart race with nerves.
* * *
“Did your meeting conclude well?”
When Cedric returned to his office after seeing Harriet off, he was met by Gerard Austin, his closest aide and the man currently overseeing the Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb project.
“It’s a good start. You’ve worked hard, Sir Austin.”
At Cedric’s praise, Gerard lowered his eyes with a humble smile, though he hesitated before speaking.
“However, Your Grace, I don’t quite understand.”
At Cedric’s nod to continue, Gerard spoke carefully, wondering if he was being presumptuous.
“Even if we expand the scale of Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb, it remains a small venture by the standards of the Ducal House. Why bother pursuing such a business...?”
“You mean, why pursue it to the extent of appointing you, Sir Austin, to lead it?”
“That’s not what I meant at all. I am merely curious about the grand scheme Your Grace envisions.”
Baron Gerard Austin was a serious, meticulous, and highly responsible man. Loyal and capable, he had been the family head’s closest confidant since the time of Rowan, often entrusted with the most crucial projects undertaken by the House. Although there were no urgent matters at hand, it was understandable for him to question why he had been assigned to such a minor venture.
“Well...”
Cedric felt a bit awkward, realizing he would have to give a disappointing answer to Gerard, who was looking at him with clear expectation.
“To be honest, I don’t quite know either.”
“Pardon?”
“As you said, Sir Austin, this is a small-scale business. It lacks significant influence, nor does it seem likely to have any major ripple effects in the future.”
This wasn't a sudden realization. He had intended to refuse Harriet’s investment proposal from the very beginning.
“Perhaps it’s better to say I’m repaying a debt of gratitude?”
“A debt of gratitude? To whom?”
“To the convent, of course.”
Cedric smiled faintly.
“Near the end of the Kifren War, when the transport of medical supplies was delayed due to Marquess Pascal’s interference, the personnel and supplies urgently dispatched by Saint Clarissa Convent were a godsend.”
It was a memory that still made his jaw tighten. Because of that interference, Rowan, who had suffered a fatal injury, gave up the medicine meant for him to save other soldiers. He endured the pain until he finally closed his eyes for good.
“I’m going to die regardless of that medicine. In that case, rather than wasting it, it’s better to save those who can still be saved.”
Cedric had regretted it bitterly at the time, insisting that his father take the medicine. But his father, who always spoke only what was right, had made the right decision even then. Thanks to that noble sacrifice, the surviving soldiers were deeply moved by Rowan and Cedric, and their morale soared. It was as good as leading them to victory.
However, the faction that had obstructed the supplies had partially achieved their goal. They had wished for Rowan’s death and for the Duchy to lose the Kifren War.
“My father eventually passed away, but thanks to the powerful painkiller provided by the convent’s pharmacist, he didn't suffer much. That was a great comfort to me at the time.”
Cedric, briefly lost in the past, raised his head with an indifferent expression.
“Not being able to fully repay that kindness has always been a burden on my mind. This business happens to benefit Saint Clarissa Convent directly. Should I really be calculating profits in such a situation?”
“No, Your Grace. I fully understand your noble intentions. I will ensure that profits do not decline.”
“Thank you.”
Gerard bowed silently and exited the office. Left alone, Cedric gazed out the window, lost in thought.
Yes, it’s because of the debt I owe to Saint Clarissa Convent.
There were a few other places that had sent medical personnel during the war, but he had prioritized the convent because of the peace they gave his father in his final moments. Yet, every time he told himself this, a sarcastic voice echoed in the back of his mind.
But why didn't you think of repaying that debt until you heard Harriet Listerwell had gone to that convent?
Indeed. He had wondered about that himself. Harriet Listerwell was merely an intermediary who had coincidentally become involved.
Cedric tilted his head, then let out a small, dismissive laugh.
I was simply too preoccupied back then. It’s just a coincidence; I can’t say she was the cause. Absolutely not.
There was no time for useless thoughts. Those who had colluded with the enemy and driven his father to his death were still eyeing the Ducal House, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
* * *
The Laurel Family’s flower-encircled tea room had opened its doors for the first time in a long while. Decorated for the autumn season, the room was charming yet dignified, perfectly reflecting Lady Laurel’s taste.
Warm black tea and freshly baked pastries were laid out on a trendy checkered tablecloth, but the young ladies in attendance couldn't bring themselves to eat. They were too busy gazing at Daphne with concern.
“Daphne. Are you truly not ill?”
It was the third time they had asked. Daphne had always been fair-skinned, but now she looked deathly pallid. She had grown so thin that her collarbones and the cords of her neck stood out in sharp, fragile lines.
However, Daphne merely offered a faint smile and shook her head.
“Not at all. I’ve lost a bit of weight, but my appetite has been returning lately. Please, don’t worry so much.”
Despite her words, Daphne hadn't touched her tea or her pastry. Since she insisted she was fine, her friends couldn't keep pressing her. They forced smiles and pivoted the conversation to recent trends—what had happened since Daphne disappeared from high society, who was engaged to whom, and which brands were currently in vogue.
“No matter what else is happening, Saint Clarissa Convent’s soap is the biggest topic. I doubt there’s a single person suffering from a breakout who hasn't bought a bar.”
“I don’t even have skin trouble, but I was so swayed by the rumors that I bought some anyway. It really is wonderful. The scent isn't overpowering, so even my father uses it. Secretly, of course.”
The group burst into laughter at the image of a middle-aged man sneaking his daughter’s soap.
“I also bought the Lavender Toner from them. I actually use it more for spraying on my pillow than on my face. I sleep so soundly now.”
“Right? I tried that method Miss Harriet recommended, and I sleep so well that I use it every night.”
At that, Daphne, who had been silent until now, spoke up.
“Does it really... make you sleep that well?”