Chapter 70
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 70
“It’s difficult to say for certain, given that we don’t know how the business will fare in the long term. At the current sales rate, perhaps four years? However, a large volume has already been moved, so there is a high probability that profits for the first quarter of this year will dip. Furthermore, if the brand value drops, sales could be halved—no, even quartered…”
Harriet nodded in agreement. This business absolutely could not fail. Steady, consistent sales were far more important than a single spectacular success, making the re-establishment of the brand essential.
“I understand. Thank you for organizing everything so thoroughly. And you remember the requirement for strict confidentiality, correct?”
“Oh, of course. Do I look like a man with a death wish? Hahaha!”
The absolute priority among the contract terms with the accountant was maintaining the secrecy of Harriet Listerwell’s role as the head of the business, as well as Cedric Kailas’s position as its sole investor.
Of course, since Cedric himself had recommended the accountant, there was little chance of that clause being violated.
* * *
Staring at the substantial sum recorded in a bankbook under her own name was a pastime Harriet felt she could indulge in for hours without ever growing bored.
Nevertheless, Harriet only opened the book—which showed a balance of ‘71,205 Dirham and 72 Sant’—five more times before tucking it into a drawer. She then went to invite Trisha, who had just woken from a nap, for afternoon tea.
“It feels like it’s been a while since we last had tea together.”
“We had tea just the day before yesterday, didn’t we?”
“When you first came to this house, we would sit together and boil water for tea three or four times a day. Neither of us had much else to do back then.”
“That is true.”
Harriet gave an awkward laugh in response to Trisha, who sounded a little disappointed.
It was true that Harriet had become significantly busier since launching the business. Leaving in the morning and returning just before dinner had become her daily routine, so carving out time for tea was no longer easy.
But in truth, even when she was home, they often couldn't share tea because Trisha was either exhausted, meeting with a doctor, or sleeping. Rather than pointing that out, Harriet found it better to simply take the blame herself.
Trisha surely knew the truth anyway.
I hope her health improves soon.
Perhaps deciding there was no longer any point in hiding Trisha’s failing health from Harriet, Roxana had recently provided a brief explanation of the older woman's condition.
“Her lungs are weak, and her overall vitality has waned significantly. Fortunately, we found a suitable medicine that has reduced her coughing, but it makes her sleep more. Quality sleep is essential for recovery, so you needn't worry too much. And you must absolutely not mention this to anyone outside the family.”
News that the head of a household is ill—especially one who has yet to name an heir—can deal a devastating blow to a family’s standing.
Even without Roxana’s warning, Harriet had every intention of keeping it a secret. However, seeing Trisha send her as a proxy to every party they were invited to made Harriet anxious. She wondered if it was only a matter of time before the truth was discovered.
Don’t think like that. They said the medicine is working. Her recovery is only slow because of her age; she’ll get better eventually.
This was Trisha Fellon, after all—the woman known as the Iron Lady and the Lioness of the Fellon Family. She was not someone who would collapse easily.
As Harriet forced a smile and made small talk about the weather, Andre, the butler, entered the room pushing a tray laden with teacups. Harriet wondered if Trisha had summoned him, but seeing the older woman’s surprised frown, it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Andre? You’re bringing the tea yourself? Are you truly that idle?”
“Indeed! As you say, I am quite idle today, and I wished to brew the tea for you myself.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“The tea that arrived yesterday was ‘Carver Hills Dragon.’ And I, if I do say so myself, brew this particular tea wonderfully, do I not?”
At his words, Trisha let out a hearty laugh.
“Hahaha! That’s right, that’s right. You’re from Carver Hill, aren’t you?”
“For Count and Countess Fellon to visit that mountain village—which had nothing to recommend it but tea plantations—was the greatest fortune of my life.”
Despite the vast difference in their social standing, the two of them seemed like old friends in that moment.
Before setting the teacups, Andre started the gramophone. With a soft whirring sound, the disc began to spin, and soon, the soaring notes of a famous soprano’s aria filled the air.
[Oh, the sun sets. But I am not afraid. Even when night falls, the stars will twinkle and show me the way.]
The song was titled There Are Stars in the Night Sky.
It was an aria sung by a protagonist who was gradually losing their sight, intended to comfort their grieving family and friends. The message was that even if they lost their vision, the love of those around them would prevent them from crumbling, allowing them to continue living.
I can’t even imagine what the protagonist must have felt to sing a song like that.
Harriet felt as though she could almost grasp the emotion, but trying to fully empathize with it was painful, so she didn't delve deeper.
Instead, she listened to the conversation between Trisha and Andre. Even as the music played, the two were casually discussing a surprising past.
The butler was a poor commoner from Carver Hill?
He had been the son of a tenant farmer who worked the rented tea fields, just like most residents of that region.
His fate had been to inherit that same life of labor, but everything changed when he was fifteen. Oster Fellon, who had only recently married at the time, visited Carver Hill accompanied by his wife, Trisha.
“You talk as if we were angels who descended to save you, but we were merely looking for a shortcut to the Duravel iron ore mine,” Trisha remarked.
“But taking in a country bumpkin from the mountains just because he guided you well was indeed salvation, my lady.”
Andre had become the Fellons' guide because he knew the mountain paths to Duravel and could act as a porter. Impressed by his amiable and intelligent nature, the couple had gladly granted Andre’s request to take him back to the capital.
Andre, who began working for the Fellon family at fifteen, had been in their service for forty-three years. Having steadily climbed the ranks from the very bottom, he had been promoted to butler eighteen years ago, at the age of forty.
The butler must know this household inside and out.
It was no wonder Trisha trusted him above all others, alongside Roxana.
As that thought crossed Harriet's mind, Andre poured the tea into their cups with a gentle gurgle.
“This is Carver Hills Dragon. It is made from the first leaves picked in Carver Hill, so named because the tips of the tea plants resemble a dragon spreading its wings during harvest. A bit grand, wouldn’t you say?”
The tea’s color was a clear, bright brown, much like the butler's eyes.
Harriet quietly lifted her cup and savored the brew.
A subtly bitter first note, a very faint acidity, an elusive sweet aroma, and a clear yet substantial body blended together exquisitely. It was indeed a tea worthy of its reputation.
“It is truly magnificent, and delicious enough to live up to its name.”
“That is because I brewed it so well.”
At Andre’s joke, the three of them laughed merrily.
Sensing the lightened mood, Harriet decided to bring up her main topic.
“Um, Great-aunt Trisha.”
Trisha raised an eyebrow and glanced at her.
“You said you didn’t need it, Great-aunt, but I really want to repay at least a portion of what I owe you. Will you accept it?”
“So the accountant visited, and it seems your income is quite substantial, does it?”
“W-well, of course, it might be pocket change to you, Great-aunt…”
Harriet replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment, but Trisha set down her teacup and spoke in her characteristically sharp tone.
“Indeed, you’ve said it yourself. Your income is pocket change to me. I don’t look so destitute that I need to take your money, do I?”
“It’s not like that. It’s just that repaying even a little bit would mean a lot to me. I wanted to give you a gift, but I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate…”
“Harriet.”
Leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed, Trisha did not look like a woman who was ill. Her presence perfectly suited her nickname, the Lioness of the Fellon Family. The moment her name was called, Harriet instinctively hunched her shoulders.
“Don’t let a little pocket change go to your head. You should be thinking about how to reinvest that money to make more, not already planning how to spend it.”
At the stern scolding, Harriet bit her lip.
She felt a twinge of disappointment that Trisha didn't seem to appreciate her intentions, but she couldn't argue; she understood the wisdom behind the words.
“If you truly wish to make a gesture, then use that money on something that will yield a return. In any case, I don’t need a single penny of your money, so understand that.”
“But what one gains doesn’t necessarily have to be financial profit, does it?”
Harriet tried a different angle, her voice softening into a charming plea, but Trisha was not swayed.
“That is not what I mean. You should reflect on the resolve you had when you first asked me to be your guardian. You still have a long way to go. Just because things have gone quiet doesn't mean John has forgotten about you.”
At the mention of the name she hadn't heard in a long time, Harriet’s mind snapped to attention.