Ch#62
Ch#62
Ch#62
“Of course. In Bella’s world, any lady from a family of equal standing must automatically be beneath her.”
Viviana gritted her teeth.
She had sensed something off about Bella for a while now, but she had dismissed it as her own misunderstanding and let it go. It was only after hearing Harriet’s explanation that she realized it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all—it was a warning from her instincts.
“I can’t believe it.”
“The truth is… the rumors are already circulating,” Harriet continued.
“That Lady Viviana has been secretly in love with Adam Hoffner for years and has been jealous of Bella because of it.”
“You mean people actually believe that nonsense? And—and this is embarrassing for me to say myself—but I was one of Bella’s closest confidantes. Why on earth would I be jealous of her?”
“Were the rumors about me any more believable? And yet everyone believed them.”
Viviana was at a loss for words.
When she thought back on it, it wasn’t hard to imagine people accepting that kind of gossip about her as fact. Just as she herself had done with Harriet. Now she was paying the price for judging Harriet too hastily.
“So now I either bow my head to Bella and apologize… or get ostracized from high society. Those are my only two options?”
For a marriageable young lady, being shunned by high society was as good as the worst fate imaginable.
Isolation and whispers—it would be suffocating.
Harriet knew that feeling all too well.
Harriet understood exactly what Viviana was going through. She herself had been mocked by Bella, ignored, and used as a scapegoat. She hadn’t even had the freedom to breathe.
So she knew exactly what Viviana wanted to hear most.
“If you’re all right with it, I’ll stand by your side. I don’t want you to apologize to Bella and humiliate yourself.”
Surprise, doubt, gratitude, hope, guilt, and relief swirled together in Viviana’s eyes.
It was entirely up to her which of those emotions she would act on.
And after a moment of silence, she made her choice.
“Does that mean… we’re friends now?”
Harriet smiled softly and extended her hand.
“May I call you Viviana?”
Viviana looked down at the outstretched hand, then smiled and took it.
“…Of course, Harriet.”
In that moment, amid the strawberry scent filling Harriet’s room, an alliance was forged.
Autumn passed far too quickly.
As the last leaves fell, a cold north wind swept through the streets.
By December, Genoa was swept up in festival cheer.
The last week of the year was Holy Week, a time of celebration and joy not just for the nobility but for everyone across the empire.
“Have all the clothes for Holy Week arrived?”
“Yes, Great-Grandmother. Thanks to you, I’ll be able to wear beautiful dresses again this year. Thank you.”
“I always say this, but it’s no different from playing with dolls for me. As long as you keep looking pretty, I’m satisfied.”
Harriet resisted the urge to mutter, ‘I wish the doll were just a little prettier.’
She knew she’d only get scolded for saying something unnecessary.
‘Great-Grandmother is such a good person. Was writing to Grandmother first a blessing from the gods?’
She had once seemed cold and sharp, but lately Trisha had shown a much warmer side. Now they even exchanged jokes from time to time.
Still, Trisha always keeping a blanket over her lap worried Harriet.
Even in the heat of midsummer, Harriet had found that blanket under Trisha’s chair, which meant she needed it year-round.
‘She seems unwell, but she won’t say anything…’
Whenever Harriet asked, Trisha brushed it off as nothing.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”—she always turned the question back on her.
Even when Harriet asked Roxana or Butler Andre, they just reassured her that everything was fine.
Pestering someone who insisted she was fine felt rude.
But Harriet couldn’t stop worrying.
After all, Trisha was the first real adult she could rely on since her parents passed away, and she wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.
“Harriet?”
“Yes?”
“You didn’t even hear me calling you. What are you thinking about so deeply?”
“D-Did you call me? I’m sorry!”
Trisha waved her hand lightly to stop Harriet from apologizing too much.
“I was asking what your plans are for visiting during Holy Week.”
“Where are you going, Great-Grandmother?”
“Me? I always go to Saint Paolo Cathedral. But you don’t have to come with me. Go wherever you want.”
Harriet had already been thinking about that as Holy Week approached.
But if she didn’t need to accompany Trisha, her choice was clear.
“Then I’d like to go to Saint Clarissa Convent.”
“I thought as much. It makes sense since you’re in the soap business too.”
Harriet just smiled in response.
Trisha hummed thoughtfully, then continued with a more serious expression.
“Wherever you go is none of my business. But for nobles, Holy Week is also an important time to socialize and build connections. That’s why powerful families all gather at the same grand cathedrals.”
“I know.”
“If you’re going to pass up that opportunity, then make sure you gain something definite from the convent. It doesn’t have to be something visible or profitable—but it can’t just be emotional self-satisfaction.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Harriet nodded with unwavering, resolute eyes. She seemed completely confident in her chosen path.
Trisha wondered if she’d nagged too much, but she thought it couldn’t hurt to have an old woman around to repeat the obvious things now and then.
As the year’s end approached, the churches hoped to draw as many worshippers as possible during Holy Week.
It was customary—and a matter of courtesy and tradition—for high priests to personally invite the powerful and wealthy.
After Mass, as Benedict was leaving Arens Cathedral with his acquaintances, a high priest approached with a low bow.
“Leaving already, Lord Benedict?”
Everyone showered the priest, who had just finished his sermon, with praise, and he humbly waved it off.
“It’s not my doing—it’s thanks to the faith of our congregation. By the way, have you decided where you’ll spend Holy Week this year…?”
It was a polite question, but clearly one seeking a firm answer.
But since everyone had already planned to come to Arens, no one found it awkward.
Benedict was no exception.
“Of course I’ll be at Arens. With so many visitors expected, you must be busy with preparations.”
“We are busy, but it’s a joyful task. We’re always grateful to those who attend.”
“You’re so devoted even amid all that hard work. That’s why we all respect you, Father.”
The priest smiled warmly at Benedict’s praise, then subtly broached the question he’d really wanted to ask.
“By chance, do you know which cathedral His Grace the Duke Kailas usually attends? I don’t think I’ve ever heard.”
All eyes turned to Benedict.
Savoring the attention, he paused a moment before answering.
“Ah, Cedric? I don’t think he has a fixed place. It’s not a lack of faith—he’s just so busy he barely has time to breathe.”
“Indeed, exactly!”
The priest laughed in agreement, then added with a hint of regret.
“Even so, if someone like His Grace visited our cathedral, it would surely inspire the worshippers and forge good connections.”
“That makes sense.”
Benedict had realized from the start what the priest was after—he’d just been waiting for him to voice it outright.
Sensing the mood, his acquaintances chimed in.
“If His Grace hasn’t chosen a place, then Arens is perfect. It’s not as grand as Elvinas or Saint Paolo, but it’s far more community-focused. Unlike those old-fashioned churches that just chant scriptures.”
“Exactly! Our congregation collaborates on various community projects. We don’t dwell in the past—we’re building the empire’s future together.”
As the group praised the cathedral, the high priest’s delight became increasingly obvious.
He looked at Benedict again, eyes full of expectation.
Finally, Benedict shrugged as if giving in.
“You’re right. Even families like ours should have a designated place of worship. I may not have realized its importance until now—but it’s time to change that. I’ll speak to him directly.”
“How wise and generous of you, Lord Benedict. His Grace is truly fortunate to have someone like you—hahaha!”
They exchanged well-wishes and parted ways in high spirits.
The next day, Benedict went straight to see Cedric. With Holy Week fast approaching, he needed to persuade him quickly.
