Chapter 56
Chapter 56
“Yes. And she’s also someone who would never betray the convent or me.”
Harriet smiled tenderly as she thought of Emma, who regularly sent her letters about the business.
“I don’t want to become a nun myself. But to be honest, I really don’t have anyone else I can rely on.”
Emma, who had once envied Harriet for gaining Trisha as a patron, had grown up in the slums, moving from one relative’s house to another.
Though they shared similar backgrounds, their situations were vastly different. Emma often said of herself, “I think I’m too obsessed with money to become a nun.”
“Someday, I want to open a little shop. I feel like I’d be good at selling things. I want to get rich, get married, have kids. And I want to make a huge donation to the convent—one that’s truly substantial, not just the odd coin nobles toss out to show off.”
Even as she lived at the convent and regarded Abbess Catherine as her benefactor, Emma still dreamed of that future. But deep down, she knew it would be hard to achieve.
Harriet, who pitied her for it, had encouraged her many times not to give up. She had promised to help her no matter what, someday.
‘And that future is drawing closer now, Emma.’
Even now, it was Emma who helped Abbess Catherine sort through the business documents at the convent and wrote letters to Harriet.
Emma didn’t yet know what Harriet was planning, but if things continued this way, she would soon have all the qualifications needed to become the manager of St. Clarissa Soap & Herbs.
“When I first saw Lady Harriet’s business proposal, I thought it was quite thoroughly planned, down to the finest details.”
“There must still have been plenty of gaps here and there.”
“Among those who demand even larger investments, plenty bring plans that aren’t as good as this one.”
As expected, he didn’t even give the empty courtesy of saying otherwise. Harriet was no longer disappointed by such things.
“Thank you for thinking so. Can I look forward to your investment in the next venture as well?”
“You’re already getting ahead of yourself.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
When Harriet smiled playfully, Cedric responded with a similar expression.
“Then, until next time.”
“Take care.”
Harriet gathered her documents and stood from her seat.
Crossing the grand lobby of the Kailas Ducal Mansion no longer made her nervous.
\*\*\*
“Did the meeting go well?”
The one who greeted Cedric as he returned to his office after seeing Harriet off was Gerard Austin, his closest aide and the person in charge of the St. Clarissa Soap & Herbs business.
“Good start. Well done, Sir Austin.”
At Cedric’s praise, Gerard smiled humbly, lowering his eyes before hesitating for a moment and speaking up.
“But, my lord, there’s one thing I don’t quite understand.”
When Cedric gestured for him to continue, Gerard pressed on, wondering if he was overstepping.
“Even considering its growth potential, St. Clarissa Soap & Herbs is a very small business by the standards of our ducal house. I don’t quite grasp why you’re putting so much support behind it…….”
“Enough to assign someone like you as the person in charge?”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m just curious about the bigger picture you have in mind.”
Baron Gerard Austin was a serious, responsible, and meticulous man. He had been the top aide since the time of Cedric’s father, the previous duke, and excelled in both loyalty and ability. He typically handled the most important projects within the duchy.
So it was only natural that he questioned his assignment to such a minor venture.
“Well…….”
Cedric felt a bit awkward at the thought of disappointing Gerard, who was gazing at him with eager curiosity.
“To be honest, I don’t really know myself.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re right—it’s a small business. It won’t have any major influence, and it doesn’t seem likely to lead to anything extraordinary in the future.”
It wasn’t a recent realization, either. He had originally planned to reject Harriet’s investment proposal.
“Hm, think of it as repaying a debt of gratitude.”
“A debt of gratitude? To whom, my lord?”
“To the convent, of course.”
Cedric gave a faint smile.
“In the late stages of the Kiphrene War, when supplies were delayed due to interference from Marquis Pascal’s faction, Saint Clarissa Convent sent emergency manpower and materials. It was a huge help.”
Even now, thinking back on it made his body tremble with rage. Because of that sabotage, Rowan—who had been gravely wounded—had given his allocated medicine to other soldiers and ultimately passed away.
‘Even if I take this medicine, I’m going to die anyway. It’s better to save someone else than waste it on me.’
Cedric regretted not forcing Rowan to take the medicine at the time. But his father, who always did what was right, had made the correct decision even then.
Thanks to that noble choice, the soldiers who survived were deeply moved by both Rowan and Cedric. Morale soared, and that momentum had effectively led to victory in the war.
But those who had sabotaged the supplies had achieved half their goal. They had wanted Rowan dead—and for them to lose the Kiphrene War.
“In the end, Father passed away, but thanks to the powerful painkiller made by the convent’s pharmacist, he went without much suffering. That was a great comfort to me at the time.”
Cedric, who had sunk into bittersweet memories for a moment, lifted his head with a calm expression once more.
“I’ve always carried the guilt of not repaying that debt. So when I heard this business would help Saint Clarissa Convent, how could I possibly weigh the profits?”
“No, my lord. I understand your intentions clearly now. I’ll make every effort to ensure this business doesn’t incur any losses going forward.”
“Thank you.”
Gerard bowed politely and left the office.
Left alone, Cedric stood by the window, lost in thought.
‘Yes…… It’s about repaying the debt I owe to Saint Clarissa Convent.’
Other places had sent emergency medical aid too, but he prioritized Saint Clarissa because they had eased his father’s final moments.
Yet every time he thought this way, a mocking voice seemed to echo in a corner of his mind.
［But why didn’t you remember that debt until you heard Harriet Listerwell had gone to that convent?］
Exactly.
That had always been a question for him too.
Wasn’t Harriet Listerwell just a broker who had appeared by chance?
Cedric tilted his head slightly, then let out a small, hollow chuckle and shook off the thought.
‘Things were too chaotic back then. It’s all just coincidence. It has nothing to do with her. Absolutely nothing.’
He didn’t have time to get lost in meaningless thoughts.
Those who had colluded with the enemy to drive his father to his death were still watching for a chance to bring down the ducal house.
\*\*\*
The Laurel Family’s tea room opened after a long time. The room, decorated with flowers to suit Lady Laurel’s tastes with charm and elegance, was filled with the essence of autumn.
On the trendy checkered tablecloth sat warm tea and freshly baked pastries, but the young ladies gathered around the table didn’t touch them. They were all too busy gazing at Daphne with worried eyes.
“Daphne, you’re really not ill anywhere, are you?”
It was already the third time someone had asked.
Daphne had always been pale, but now she looked almost ghostly. She had lost so much weight that her collarbones and neck bones protruded sharply.
Even so, she just gave a feeble smile and shook her head.
“Not at all. I’ve lost a bit of weight, but my appetite’s coming back lately. So please don’t worry too much.”
And yet she didn’t touch the tea or pastries.
But since she insisted she was fine, her friends couldn’t press her further and forced smiles as they turned the topic to recent trends.
They chattered about what had happened while Daphne had withdrawn from society—who had gotten engaged, who was the most popular right now, which brands were in vogue.
“But no matter what, the biggest trend right now is the soap from Saint Clarissa Convent. Everyone with acne or blemishes has bought it.”
“I don’t even have skin troubles, but everyone said it was good, so I got some. And it really is! The scent isn’t overpowering, so even my dad’s been using it on the sly.”
The young ladies burst into giggles at the thought of a middle-aged man secretly using his daughter’s soap.
“I got the Lavender Mist from there too. I don’t use it as a toner—I spray it on my pillow. It helps me sleep so well.”
“Right! I tried it that way after Lady Harriet recommended it, and I’ve been sleeping soundly ever since.”
At those words, Daphne—who had been silent until now—finally spoke.
“Does it really help that much with falling asleep?”
