Chapter 72
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 72
I only meant to drop off a gift. Why is this such an ordeal? It’s just a single bottle of champagne.
Harriet sat in the drawing room of Kailas Mansion, shifting uncomfortably.
The butler who had escorted her was still perfectly polite, but perhaps it was just her imagination—his gaze felt unreadable.
I know they have to be careful after the assassination attempt, but what would I even gain by killing my only investor?
The guards, however, had been completely unmoved by her logic.
“You might have been swayed by the Firmans,” they had countered. “They could have promised a greater reward for you to bring us poison.”
Even under such suspicion, she had insisted they deliver the gift. It would have been too embarrassing to tuck tail and leave with the expensive champagne she’d bought so boldly, and she certainly didn’t have the nerve to drink the whole thing herself.
As Harriet sighed, looking down at the box beside her, the drawing room door opened and Cedric entered.
She rose from her seat, her face tight with reluctance.
“I apologize for bothering a busy man. I truly only meant to drop this off and leave…”
Memories of being misunderstood as a temptress at every turn made the excuses tumble out before she could even offer a proper greeting.
Cedric’s eyes curved slightly as he looked at her. “May Yawar’s blessing be upon you in the New Year as well, Miss Harriet.”
“Ah! M-may God’s blessing be upon Your Grace as well.”
Harriet’s cheeks flushed hot as she realized she’d forgotten her manners, but Cedric calmly took his seat as if he hadn’t noticed her embarrassment.
“As I’ve said before, Miss Harriet has a knack for surprising me. I doubted my own ears when I heard that none other than Miss Harriet had brought a ‘gift.’”
“Ha, haha… it is a bit out of the blue, isn’t it? It’s really nothing much…”
Eager to hand over the box and escape, Harriet offered it to him.
“It’s champagne. I’m not sure if it will suit your taste.”
Just as Cedric reached for the box, the butler stepped forward and spoke in a low voice.
“If it is a beverage, it must undergo inspection, Your Grace.”
His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for Harriet to hear. She quickly set the box down on the table in front of Cedric.
“Do as you please. I simply bought an extra bottle to show my gratitude to my sole investor while I was buying some for myself. Now that I’ve personally delivered it, I feel I’ve done my part.”
How wonderful it would have been if she could have just done this at the gate.
But the stubborn guards had insisted she take it back, claiming they couldn’t accept any gift that wasn’t pre-arranged. That prolonged argument was the only reason this unnecessary meeting had even happened.
Harriet prepared to make her exit, subtly shifting to rise, but Cedric showed no sign of letting her go.
“Why champagne, all of a sudden?”
“Ah, well, I received the settlement report from the accountant yesterday, and the results were better than I expected. I went to buy a bottle to celebrate… Now that I think about it, I should have just brought it along with the report.”
Harriet wanted to slap her own forehead.
She had to inform Cedric of the settlement details anyway, and they needed to discuss the future of the brand, <Clarissa>. If she had simply requested an audience to deliver the report and mentioned the gift then, this awkwardness could have been avoided.
As she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the floor would swallow her, Cedric chuckled softly and picked up the champagne box.
“Champagne for just that?”
“‘Just’? Do you have any idea how much profit we made?”
“The net profit for the three months following the opening was approximately 370,000 Dirham.”
Harriet opened her mouth to ask how he knew that, then snapped it shut. Of course he knew. The accountant was someone Cedric had recommended.
She pouted, then intentionally adopted a bolder expression.
“For me, even that much is a joyous occasion. I believe one should always celebrate the good things.”
At her words, Cedric’s expression shifted into something unreadable. He nodded and began to unwrap the box.
Harriet hovered, unsure if she was allowed to leave. She glanced at the butler for a cue, but he seemed just as confused, simply watching his master’s actions.
Cedric pulled the bottle from the luxurious packaging, turning it in his hand.
“<Van Rivel>, 1866 vintage. Is there a particular reason you chose this one?”
“…I just bought it because they said it was the most expensive bottle in the shop.”
She expected him to scoff, but he merely traced the label with his thumb before looking at the butler.
“Prepare two glasses, please.”
“Your Grace! But the inspection first—!”
“Is there any inspection more reliable than drinking it with the person who brought it?”
“What? Me too?” Harriet blurted out.
Cedric narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why? Did you actually put poison in it?”
“No!”
“Then there’s no reason we can’t drink it together.”
The butler eventually left to fetch the glasses, leaving Harriet trapped in her seat, looking flustered.
As if she wasn't already mortified, Cedric kept staring at her with a faint, amused smile, as if he found the entire situation delightful.
Finally, Harriet couldn't take the silence.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“It’s just… I’m touched, perhaps.”
“By what?”
“I was under the impression you disliked me, yet you thought of me the moment you had something to celebrate.”
“Isn’t that obvious? If it weren’t for Your Grace, I wouldn’t have achieved this much success.”
At her blunt, honest reply, Cedric’s smile softened.
Fortunately, the butler returned then, carrying the glasses along with a plate of biscuits, cheese, and olives.
The addition of snacks was not welcome news to Harriet. Sharing a drink with Cedric like this was absurd enough!
But Cedric uncorked the champagne without a moment's hesitation.
The pop was crisp and refreshing.
He poured the liquid into the tall glasses, the pale yellow wine gurgling softly as bubbles fizzed and danced toward the rim.
Is this why people call it a party drink?
Regardless of the mounting awkwardness, she found herself wanting to just watch the effervescence and celebrate the good fortune she had seized today.
“Shall we toast?”
At Cedric’s suggestion, Harriet gave in and grasped the slender stem of her glass.
They clinked them together in silence.
The sound was exquisitely clear—a testament to the quality of the crystal.
Cedric had claimed this was for an "inspection," yet he brought the glass to his lips before Harriet did.
Oh, what the hell.
Harriet took a drink, adopting a "come what may" attitude.
The moment the first sip hit her throat, her eyes widened.
“Wow! As expected, expensive alcohol really is different…”
She stopped herself there, wanting to bite her tongue. She sounded like a common parvenu who judged everything by its price tag.
Why do I always turn into an idiot the moment I step into this house?
She wished she could turn back time by a minute, but Cedric had already taken a sip. He lightly licked his lips with the tip of his tongue and nodded.
“Indeed. It is delicious—perhaps because it’s expensive.”
“Oh? Your Grace thinks so too?”
“Yes. It certainly tastes worthy of being the most expensive bottle in the shop.”
“That’s a relief…”
With the Duke of Kailas himself praising it, the 40,000 Dirham she’d spent didn’t feel like a waste anymore. It was certainly better than bringing cheap wine and being looked down upon.
Cedric watched her bashful smile for a moment before asking, “This is a sudden question, but what is your reason for earning money, Miss Harriet?”
“My reason for earning money? Well…”
“It doesn’t seem to be merely for the sake of drinking expensive champagne.”
Harriet, her evasive answer cut off, mumbled something and offered an awkward smile.
Even if she explained it honestly, would he understand? Did she even need to lay out her life story for him?
In times like this, it was best to deflect.
“Why are you curious about that?”
Cedric seemed at a loss for words for a moment, staring into his glass.
To him, I must just be a curious little ant, struggling in a meager reality.
Just as she was about to dismiss the thought as a joke, Cedric’s red eyes locked onto hers.
“1866. I find it hard to believe this vintage holds no meaning for you.”
Harriet froze, the air leaving her lungs.
“The 1866 Albrecht Park boating accident,” Cedric continued smoothly. “Your life changed quite significantly after that, didn’t it?”
“You… you investigated me?”