Chapter 19
~Chapter 19~
“You crazy bastard…….”
“If you’re a secret agent for Cedric Kailas, shouldn’t you be at least that insane? Hmm…… ‘Secret agent,’ huh? It’s still a term that makes my heart race.”
“Please, just stop…….”
Cedric felt a chill run down his spine from sheer embarrassment. His friend Edgar might look like a carefree playboy on the surface, but in reality, he was incredibly sharp and quick on the uptake. Sending him to the Kingdom of Candia as a spy under the guise of studying abroad had seemed like the safest plan. If he’d known that Edgar’s father, Count Dawson, would suspect his son’s ‘diligence’ so much, he would have come up with another excuse.
Cedric’s head throbbed, but Edgar didn’t care in the slightest.
“Anyway, since my father flew into a rage and kicked me out, I’ll be staying here for a while. You wouldn’t be so heartless as to cast out an agent just because his family ties got strained over work, right?”
It wasn’t wrong, and besides, having Edgar around made processing information far easier, so Cedric had no reason to refuse his request.
“There are plenty of empty rooms, so pick whichever one you like.”
“Becoming the loyal servant of Duke Kailas isn’t so bad. And you’re even giving me a room for free. Hahaha!”
The lighthearted conversation with Edgar came to an end. The two of them sipped their tea and sat in silence. But while Edgar looked perfectly at ease, Cedric’s thoughts drifted to Harriet—the woman who had been abandoned at the convent after her guardianship was severed.
‘Did I make a mistake?’
At the time, he had lost his father’s brooch and was panicking, and he had believed the rumors that Harriet was wearing it around to flaunt it. Her reaction, which had seemed genuinely hurt, made him doubt whether he had misunderstood the situation. He had thought stepping back at that point was enough.
‘But because of that, one woman’s life was ruined…….’
He rarely regretted his decisions, but this time, he couldn’t deny that he had acted too hastily.
Just then, Edgar, who had been munching on a cookie, swallowed and asked, “By the way, where are you planning to visit during Festival Week this year?”
After a brief silence, Cedric replied, “This year, I’m thinking of going to Saint Clarissa Convent. They sent medical staff during the Kiphrene War, and I still haven’t properly expressed my gratitude.”
There was another reason for the visit, but he didn’t feel the need to explain it.
The last week of the year was called ‘Festival Week.’ It featured the feasts of Saint Anthony, Saint Valencia, and Saint Miente in succession. During this period, it was customary for nobles to visit temples for prayer or convents they had ties to and make donations.
People were curious about where the war hero Cedric—known across the land—would choose for his first visit after the victory, but he kept his plans secret and headed to Saint Clarissa Convent. The convent had learned of his visit too late, leaving them little time to prepare.
“Welcome, Your Grace, Duke Kailas. I am Abbess Catherine Emillosa.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Cedric Kailas. I delayed contacting you so as not to burden the convent, and I hope it hasn’t caused too much trouble.”
“We were a bit surprised, but we understand Your Grace’s intentions.”
Catherine sensed something peculiar in Cedric’s demeanor. He was exceedingly polite, neither arrogant nor flaunting his power, and yet there was an invisible wall of distance between them.
‘Is this what they mean by the difference in station?’
It was an emotion she had never felt even when meeting the Pope, leaving her unsure how to judge him. But one thing was clear: he was more courteous than any donor she had ever met.
Cedric listened attentively as Catherine guided him through the convent, occasionally posing serious questions and showing genuine interest in the place. Despite the cold weather, he wanted to inspect the farm and outer facilities as well.
“To think there’s an olive farm at the convent—how unique.”
“It’s common for convents of women. The revenue from processing and selling the harvest here covers a large portion of our operating costs.”
“Only for convents of women?”
“Most of them, yes.”
Catherine replied with a wry smile. Cedric didn’t press further and turned his gaze elsewhere. There, a few dilapidated wooden buildings stood scattered about.
“What are those places for?”
“Oh, those are our workshops. That one over there is for pressing olive oil, and the other is for making soap. This building produces various herb-based products…….”
As Catherine continued her explanation, Cedric’s eyes fixed on the soap workshop. Through the open window for ventilation, he caught sight of a woman.
‘That’s…… her.’
Her once blotchy skin had cleared up, but her overall appearance hadn’t changed much, making her easy to recognize. However, her condition was beyond what he had expected. She was wearing worn-out clogs, stirring the contents of a large cauldron with a ladle, and wearily thumping her lower back.
Cedric’s brow furrowed slightly.
For nobles, ‘work’ usually meant reading or analyzing documents or making investments—never physical labor. Even if imprisoned for a crime, they weren’t subjected to grueling toil.
Yet Harriet was doing work suited to ordinary nuns. Even if it was part of her penance, wasn’t this too much?
‘I thought she’d be spending her time leisurely reading books or doing embroidery.’
Was she being treated like a commoner just because the Viscount Listerwell family had cut off their support? Cedric gave her one last glance before returning to his conversation with Catherine and moving on.
Finally, when they sat facing each other in the convent’s small reception room, Cedric didn’t engage in lengthy small talk. Instead, he presented the donation.
“Please put it to good use.”
The box he handed over was filled with 100-diram bills—a rough estimate of about 100,000 diram.
Catherine’s eyes widened in surprise, but Cedric brushed it off casually.
“It only looks like a lot because of the bulk. It’s not actually that large an amount. I figured smaller denominations would be more convenient for you.”
He called it a modest sum, but it was the largest donation Catherine had ever received. Saint Clarissa Convent wasn’t a powerful or large institution, and their usual donations topped out around 10,000 diram.
“This will be a tremendous help to the convent’s operations. Thank you so much, Your Grace.”
“Not at all. During the Kiphrene War, the convent sent skilled nurses, and we were greatly aided by them. This is woefully insufficient as repayment. Besides, donating such a large sum all at once would draw unnecessary attention.”
Catherine was also surprised that he remembered that contribution. After all, the convent had only sent a handful of herbalists and five nuns proficient in medicine.
“We’re truly grateful that you remembered our small convent. And for taking the time to visit amid your busy schedule.”
Catherine expressed her thanks once more. As the conversation seemed to wrap up, Cedric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“By the way, might I request a private meeting?”
“A private meeting? With whom?”
“Harriet Listerwell—the young lady who arrived here about half a year ago.”
Only then did Catherine recall the scandal linking Harriet and Cedric. She hesitated, looking flustered. But Cedric seemed to assume it would be no issue, and having just received such a generous donation, refusing wasn’t easy.
“P-Please wait a moment.”
Catherine hurried off to find Harriet. Explaining the situation to her as she rushed over from the soap workshop, she added, “If you don’t want to meet him, you don’t have to. I can come up with any excuse you need.”
But Harriet saw no reason to avoid Cedric.
Hadn’t she already made it clear back then that she hadn’t done it? Whether he believed her or not was his choice, but his judgment didn’t make her guilty in reality.
“It’s fine. He probably just wants to check if I’m truly repenting.”
Harriet brushed the dust from her sleeves, roughly tidied her hair, and followed Catherine to the reception room.
A moment later, the man who turned his head wore the same unforgettable face as six months ago.
“Long time no see, Your Grace,” she said.
“Indeed. Have you been well?”
“Yes.”
No longer reply was needed.
She offered no further explanation. There was no need to. Harriet sat across from Cedric. She gave a reassuring smile to the abbess as she left the room, but she had no desire to do the same for Cedric, the very man responsible for sending her here. Cedric, of course, didn’t seem to mind.
“You said you wanted to see me.”
