SMR 88

~Chapter 88~

Even after gulping down a full glass of water, Trisha couldn’t calm her fury. She beat her chest with her fist, trembling with outrage.

“My eldest brother never raised his children to be like this. Arthur may have gotten more attention since he was the heir, but John received the same values. What could’ve happened in all that time to turn him into such a monster?”

Harriet remained silent. That question had lingered in her mind for years.

As a child, Uncle John had always been warm and affectionate. What had changed? Or had that gentleness simply been a mask all along?

There was no use dwelling on it anymore. The damage had been done.

Once Trisha managed to calm herself, Roxana took over and swiftly examined the documents Howard had brought.

“This bank is unusually honest,” she commented. “They’ve kept detailed records of every transaction and managed the estate incredibly well. And the land itself—it’s no wonder Baron Listerwell was so desperate to have it.”

The estate in Perillas was known for its rich soil and excellent crop yields. Profits from the produce sales were already significant.

But its true value wasn’t limited to farming.

Located just two to three hours away from Genoa by carriage and positioned at a branching point of the road that extended southeast across the empire, the land had immense developmental potential. It could be so much more than farmland.

Of course, none of that justified stealing the property from a rightful heir.

“I suppose I’ve been lucky,” Harriet said with a bitter smile. “Maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe it was my parents… watching over me. I didn’t even know I had an inheritance.”

Trisha raised her voice again. “Go to Perillas immediately. See the land for yourself and make sure everything is in order—especially the finances. Roxana, go with her.”

“But, madam,” Roxana hesitated. “Who will take care to you in the meantime…?”

“This house isn’t short on maids, is it?” Trisha snapped. “Don’t worry about me. Right now, making sure Harriet’s estate is secured is more important.”

Seeing Roxana still hesitate, Trisha let out an exaggerated shout. “I’m not going to die while you’re gone!”

In the end, Harriet had to apologize several times before Roxana reluctantly agreed. Together, the two women set off for Perillas.

The carriage ride was long, but the countryside was peaceful. Roxana spent most of the time gazing out the window. When the landscape began to shift and the estate drew near, she finally spoke.

“There’s quite a bit of traffic here. That’s a very good sign. Being so close to Genoa and having well-maintained roads—this area has enormous potential. It’s almost wasteful to keep it as just farmland.”

Harriet looked hesitant. “I honestly don’t know what to do yet. I don’t want people saying the new owner came in and kicked all the rental farmers out. So for now, I think I’ll just leave it as farmland until I come up with a better plan.”

“Reputation is important in rural communities,” Roxana agreed. “But eventually, you’ll have to make a decision. Just don’t try to save everyone. You’re not a messiah.”

Harriet chuckled softly. “You’re right.”

Yet when she saw her land for the first time with her own eyes, all the heavy thoughts melted away.

“This… this is all mine?”

She was breathless.

Fields of young barley shoots—colored like her own hair—stretched across the land, glowing soft green in the sunlight.

Other plots had just been planted with carrots and beans. Life was already blooming across the vast land. It moved Harriet deeply, and she didn’t regret her decision to keep it as farmland.

Come summer, I’ll see golden waves of barley… In autumn, there’ll be pumpkins and potatoes to harvest. What a lovely thought.

Just imagining it warmed her heart.

Still, Roxana was right—this land would need to evolve.

“The fellow farmers will be happy,” Howard, who had come along as a guide, commented. “They’ve spent their entire lives working this soil. Most of them don’t know how to do anything else.”

Harriet gave a small smile but shook her head.

“That might be true for the older generation. But their children are different. With foreign imports rising, farming won’t stay profitable forever. We can’t just keep doing what we’ve always done.”

She was realistic. The crops were beautiful, yes, but for the region to grow, the young ones needed reasons to stay here, and traditional farming wouldn’t be enough.

Still, that was a challenge for the future. For now, Harriet had more immediate tasks to handle.

First, they have to work on the neglected Velburn estate. It was structurally sound but had become somewhat decayed and in disrepair. Basic maintenance, minor renovations, and interior decorating were requested right away.

Next, Harriet reinvested the bulk of her savings—collected in her bank account over the past decade—into a high-return financial product recommended by Aseti Bank. As thanks for her continued trust, Howard offered a special interest rate on the owner’s farm revenue account.

Though all this seemed simple in words, the process was extensive. Even with quick handling, they had to spend an extra two days in Perillas.

On the evening of their third day, Harriet returned to the newly refreshed manor, flipping through the bankbook with pride.

Roxana, reading the newspaper from the sofa, glanced up and asked,

“You’ve achieved quite a bit, haven’t you? A steady income flow, a respectable home… What’s next?”

Harriet blinked. “What do you mean?”

“If you choose to settle here, no one in the region will look down on you. And people here probably haven’t even heard the nickname ‘Scandal Maker.’ You’ll have marriage proposals lining up in no time.”

Harriet flushed. “Oh…”

“If you don’t like the countryside, you could hire a butler and live in a small house in the capital. Either way, you now have options.”

It was then that Harriet realized the truth. Though it felt like everything had fallen into her lap like a stroke of luck, she had, in fact, surpassed the goals she had once set for herself two years ago when she left the convent.

Her first emotion wasn’t joy. It was disbelief.

Is this really okay? she thought.

Roxana let out a sigh and continued, “I’m not trying to tear you away from Lady Pellon. I just thought you should know—you have new paths open to you now.”

Harriet went quiet, then understood why she was so hesitant.

Because there was one promise—one mission—she hadn’t fulfilled.

“I still haven’t finished everything I promised my grandmother,” she said softly. “Until I do, I’ll stay in Genoa.”

Her fingers traced the stiff cover of her new bankbook.

“The people who killed my parents and stole everything from me… they haven’t paid for it yet.”

“…Are you saying your parents were murdered?” Roxana asked cautiously.

“I believe they were.”

Harriet smiled—faintly, bitterly.

“There was a time I almost gave up. After my uncle ended his guardianship, I was ready to quit. But then, someone helped me find the strength again—a man I had never met before. Baron Alfonso Villay.”

She told Roxana everything the baron had once revealed. About the sunken ship, about John’s suspicious behavior.

It might have seemed like hearsay to others, but Harriet had lived under John’s roof long enough to know.

“My uncle knew that the ship would sink. And when I think about it, I’m certain I was supposed to be on it too. I used to join my parents on boat rides all the time.”

The memory came late, but it was clear. On that day, she had begged to stay behind with friends. John and his wife had tried to convince her otherwise—oddly insistently.

At the time, she hadn’t thought anything of it.

Now? She couldn’t ignore it.

“I know I don’t have proof. I won’t accuse him publicly. I won’t try to kill him either. But…”

“But?”

“I can’t forgive him. I’m not a saint, after all. Just a scandal maker.”

She smiled again. Cold, resolute.

John had tried to rob her—of her name, her inheritance, and her future. And he would likely try again.

“You don’t have to believe me. I was planning to say this only after I’d proven myself more. But…”

“I believe you,” Roxana said without hesitation. “And frankly, knowing what I know of Baron John Listerwell, this isn’t outside the realm of possibility.”

She sighed again, but her expression didn’t change.

“You need to be stronger now. If he finds out you’ve reclaimed your land, he’ll come after you.”

“Should I hire a bodyguard?”

“Absolutely. And you should raise your public profile. Make yourself visible. If you’re surrounded by attention, he won’t dare touch you.”

Harriet nodded—and then, surprisingly, let out a laugh.