Chapter 64
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 64
"How have you been, Emma?"
"Everyone is doing well, myself included. It’s all thanks to you, Sister."
Harriet waved her hand dismissively, as if to say she couldn't possibly take all the credit. Unlike its shabby past, the convent was now pristine and well-ordered, a clear testament to their newfound prosperity.
Moreover, whether it was just her imagination or not, she sensed a strange, new vibrancy in the air. Then, it suddenly dawned on her.
Ah! The children from the Eper Orphanage must be here!
It was only natural for the convent to feel brighter with such lively young souls joining their ranks.
"How are the girls from the orphanage? Have they adjusted well?"
"Yes. A few arrived ill, but they’ve improved greatly. The older ones are already helping with the daily chores."
"What about the construction of 'Girls’ Haven'?"
"It’s nearly finished. The children will be able to move into their new quarters after the first week of the New Year. That’s when theology and basic education classes will begin as well."
The convent was developing steadily, exactly according to plan. It wasn't just about providing a roof for the orphans, either.
The Soap and Herb Workshop had been significantly expanded, and all the carts and tools used for the olive farm and workshop had been replaced with new equipment. Though things were still tight and there wasn't much surplus, the monastics would soon be receiving formal salaries.
A path is opening for women with nowhere else to go—one that doesn't force them into the veil.
While staying at the convent, there was little need for personal spending. By diligently saving their wages, these women could eventually dream of a life beyond these walls. While being a nun was a noble and respectable calling, if it wasn't chosen by one's own will, it was no different from a life sentence.
Perhaps someone like me, abandoned at a convent, could finally have a chance to turn their life around.
Harriet tightened her fist, recalling the days when she felt as if she were standing at the edge of a precipice.
*
"Sister Harriet!"
Catherine’s voice was as warm as ever as she greeted Harriet, yet it carried a subtle, unmistakable hint of excitement.
"How have you been, Mother Superior?"
"I’ve been busier than ever, but my heart is happier and more at peace than it has ever been. It is all thanks to you, Sister."
"Why does everyone keep saying that? Honestly, Duke Kailas did everything."
A bitter taste lingered on her tongue as she spoke the truth. The reason she—someone who knew nothing of business—had achieved such success was because Cedric was the true power behind the scenes.
If not for him, how could she have secured such a prime location for a shop or found such capable personnel? She knew the reality, but every time she was forced to acknowledge that he was the true architect of this success, her heart ached.
But Catherine shook her head vigorously.
"You did this, Sister. We’ve been making soaps and herbal products for a long time, but no one ever thought to start a business like this."
"She’s right," Agnes added. "If Sister Harriet hadn't suggested it, Duke Kailas wouldn't have been interested in the first place. Even we didn't recognize the potential of our own work."
At Agnes’s words, Catherine’s expression softened with regret.
"I want to apologize now for ever doubting your foresight, Sister. You were agonizing over how to help us, while I was simply afraid of change."
"Oh, no, not at all! It was only possible because you were here to lead us, Mother Superior."
Harriet waved her hands frantically, looking as if she might jump out of her seat in embarrassment. Yet, she couldn't hide the joy welling up inside her.
So this was what it felt like to be truly acknowledged. It was a sensation she had forgotten for so long that she felt a prickle of tears behind her eyes. To avoid looking undignified, Harriet quickly changed the subject.
"Oh, and this! It’s not a large sum, but please use it for the hardworking nuns and monks."
She presented the donation she had prepared. As she said, it wasn't a fortune; the business was successful, but the final accounting for the quarter hadn't been completed yet. Still, the gesture felt deeply meaningful. Visiting a religious institution to donate during the Holy Festival Week at the end of the year brought her a sense of honor and pride as an aristocrat—something she could only have dreamed of six months ago.
Catherine carefully accepted the envelope. "Thank you so much. Is there any particular area you’d like us to focus this on?"
It was a common question for a donor. Harriet replied immediately, as if she had been waiting for the prompt.
"Please buy new undergarments and stockings. Even when donations come in, food is always the priority, so no one ever speaks up. Everyone just mends and re-mends their torn clothes until they simply fall apart."
Undergarments and stockings were consumables that wore out quickly with frequent washing, yet no one at the convent could bring themselves to ask for new ones. They considered it a luxury.
Harriet still vividly remembered the time Emma had been washing her heavily patched bloomers. She had tried so hard to hide them from Harriet that she’d accidentally spilled the entire basin. Harriet could still see her face turning crimson with a shame that even the company of other women couldn't ease.
It was then that Harriet had realized her own privilege. Even though she had been abandoned, her aristocratic undergarments were clean, soft, and whole.
"I know frugality is a virtue for the clergy, but worn-out undergarments are uncomfortable during labor and can even cause illnesses that only women truly understand. Please, do not consider this a luxury."
"Ah...!"
Catherine swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering shut. Her fingertips trembled slightly as she held the envelope.
"For such thoughtful consideration, Sister... I don't know how to thank you..."
"It’s nothing grand. If I had earned more, I would have asked you to replace everyone's entire wardrobe, but this was all I could manage for now."
Harriet smiled playfully, but the emotion didn't fade from Catherine’s or Agnes’s faces.
Perhaps this was a request only Harriet could have made. Other aristocrats wouldn't bother to consider the intimate, practical struggles of those living in a convent. But Harriet, who had lived among them for a year, understood that the nuns and monks were human beings with unspoken difficulties.
Catherine finally managed a bright smile and a nod. "Thanks to you, Sister, I believe I’ll be wearing new stockings for the first time in a very long while."
At that, all three of them laughed aloud.
It was a profound, simple joy. For the first time since her parents' deaths, Harriet was truly grateful to be alive. And because of that, she couldn't stop here.
"Mother Superior. For this joy to continue, I believe the business must be sustained and expanded. When money is used correctly, it can achieve even greater good, can't it?"
Catherine no longer opposed her. With financial breathing room, they no longer had to beg the Papacy for scraps, and they could help more people in need. Money itself wasn't the enemy; it was human greed that was frightening. And for Catherine, even that fear had become a luxury they could now afford to manage.
"We know nothing of such matters. If you propose a plan, Sister, we will do everything in our power to help."
The trusting gazes of Catherine and Agnes filled Harriet’s heart with resolve.
"I want to turn 'Saint Clarissa’s Soaps and Herbs' into a larger brand called Clarissa. The fact that these products are meticulously handcrafted by the clergy is a unique appeal that no other brand can replicate."
"Is that truly so remarkable? There are many handcrafted goods in the world, even with factories becoming more common."
"Who makes the product is everything. Especially in our kingdom, where the faith holds such a high position."
A trustworthy image was an asset that couldn't be bought. It would be a waste to use it only for soap.
"I’m thinking of selling the convent’s herbal products, honey, beeswax candles, olive oil, and pickled olives—all imbued with our unique story. We are confident in our quality, aren't we?"
At the question, both Catherine and Agnes nodded with quiet pride. They had been selling these items for pittance until now, often sighing over the paltry sums they received—not out of greed, but out of a sense of apology to the monks who worked so hard to produce them. They knew the effort that went into every candle and every press of pure olive oil.
"We have always done our best to create the finest products. It was the only way we knew how to work. We are truly confident in our quality."
"Good products, a cohesive brand identity, a story that makes people happy to purchase, and quality that never wavers. I believe that if we focus on these things, Clarissa will become more successful than we ever imagined."
As Harriet spoke with such unwavering confidence, Catherine felt her own heart begin to race with anticipation.