SMR 69

~Chapter 69~

“I don’t look like the kind of people who meddle in who my daughter meets, do I? The carriage leaves in 30 minutes—just be back by then.”

Daphne then looked at her parents.

Since Trisha had already given permission, it would be awkward if her parents said no.

“Y-yes. Just don’t be late, Daphne.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Before he could change his mind, Daphne grabbed Harriet’s hand and quickly walked out of their sight.

The two walked fast enough to be slightly out of breath. Once they reached a bench in the temple square, where people were gathered, chatting, and exchanging greetings, they sat down.

“Sorry for dragging you all the way here, Lady Harriet. But I really wanted to see you…”

“It’s an honor. And honestly, I wanted to see you too. You look much better than last time. I’m relieved.”

“It’s all thanks to you.”

Just then, the church bell rang out from the tower, signaling the end of the service. Daphne looked up and smiled, then asked:

“When did you start coming to St. Paolo’s? I hadn’t heard you were a member here.”

“Actually, today’s my first time.”

“Really? Which church did you go to before?”

“None.”

To Daphne, who had grown up attending temple regularly, this was surprising.

“Th-then… did your faith grow when you were at the convent?”

“Not really.”

It was a bold reply—almost shocking enough to sound like blasphemy.

Daphne struggled to respond, but Harriet looked at her and added,

“But I did learn something important through the grace of God.”

“What was it?”

Harriet recalled the time she ran to the convent’s church in tears—the flickering candles, the cold stone floor, and the statue looking down at her with a calm expression. She remembered screaming at it, broken and desperate.

“I realized one thing—if I don’t take care of my own life, no one else will. I need to stay alert and lead my own path.”

Daphne seemed lost for words again.

Harriet’s expression grew firm as she continued.

“I’m not saying we should ignore our parents’ advice or reject what our friends do. I’m saying that, no matter what kind of life we live, we must recognize that we are the ones responsible for it.”

“I’m not sure I understand completely…”

“It means no one else can change your life—only you can. And I think you already know that, Lady Daphne.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Instead of hiding away, you chose to come out. Instead of crying in the dark, you chose to smile under the sun. Isn’t that how you decided to save your own life?”

Daphne’s eyes widened, and her eyelashes trembled.

Harriet understood exactly how brave Daphne had been to come to such a crowded temple and smile like nothing was wrong—and what that meant for her.

Not her parents, not a childhood friend—only Harriet Listerwell, someone who had barely met her once before, understood that.

“Lady Harriet…”

“I’m trying my best too. I have to. Because if I don’t, those monster-like people will tear me apart.”

Harriet smiled—it was a bit playful, but also oddly calm and wise.

Daphne felt like crying into Harriet’s shoulder.

But she had promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore.

So she forced a small smile. It wasn’t perfect, a little shaky from holding back tears—but Harriet returned it with a warm one of her own.

Then, glancing around, Harriet lowered her voice.

“I know it’s a name you probably hate hearing… but let’s talk about Bella.”

Even hearing the name still made Daphne’s mind go blank for a second—but she nodded, listening closely.

“When it comes to her, never look weak. Sympathy? Compassion? She doesn’t care about any of that. If you show any weakness, she’ll treat you like easy prey.”

“I-I won’t have to see her again anyway…”

“As someone who’s known Bella for a long time, let me tell you—no matter what you expect, you will meet her again.”

Harriet said it with certainty.

If Bella were the kind of person to stop after stealing just one man, she wouldn’t have gone after James in the first place.

“She’s going to try and take everything from you, not just your fiancé. She’ll only stop once she sees you completely crushed. And even then, she’ll pretend she didn’t mean any harm—playing innocent.”

Daphne looked confused at Harriet’s sharp words. Bella still had a good public reputation, even after the broken engagement.

Sensing Daphne’s doubt, Harriet let out a short laugh.

“Right now, I probably seem more suspicious than Bella. That’s okay. After a few more experiences, you’ll understand what I meant.”

In the distance, Count and Countess Laurel were approaching. It looked like Trisha couldn’t hold them off any longer.

Harriet stood and offered her hand to Daphne, helping her up.

“However you choose to remember this conversation is up to you. But please remember one thing: you define your own worth. Don’t let Bella do it for you.”

Daphne nodded, as if in a trance. Harriet gave her a warm smile and bent her knees slightly in a small, respectful bow.

“May the blessings and grace of the divine be with you, Lady Daphne.”

Then she quietly stepped back and turned away.

She had said everything she needed to say.

Harriet truly hoped that there would be no more victims of Bella’s cruelty.

***

Later…

As the New Year’s excitement began to calm down, Harriet’s accountant visited her with the first financial report.

“May the blessings of the New Year be with you, Lady Listerwell.”

The middle-aged accountant politely greeted her, then pulled a stack of papers from an envelope and placed them on the table.

Harriet had been nervous ever since hearing he would be coming.

“Before I look through everything, I’d like to prepare myself mentally. So… how does it look overall? Did we make a profit? Or… is it a loss?”

Her brand, St. Clarissa Soap & Herbs, had been popular from the start, and she had seen good sales numbers. Still, the thought of hearing “loss” made her heart race.

But the accountant chuckled in disbelief.

“A loss? You must be joking.”

He confidently opened the report.

“To put it simply: it’s a huge success. It’s hard to find another beauty brand that’s done this well recently. Of course, the real test will be keeping that success going.”

Finally, Harriet eagerly leaned forward and read the pages.

Since the ingredients came from the convent, there were hardly any production costs. Even the carefully designed packaging—meant to feel like a “convent product”—cost less than expected.

‘The biggest expenses each month are store rent, distribution, warehouse storage, and salary.’

After taxes, salaries, the cost of production paid to the convent, and profit-sharing, most of the remaining profits went to the Duke of Kailas, the main investor.

But the accountant didn’t seem concerned about that.

“Until the investment is fully paid back, your share is smaller, yes—but even so, it’s very impressive. The revenue for the last three months is around 110,000 diram.”

“W-what? 110,000 diram?!”

“After subtracting what you’ve already received, your share comes to about 70,000 diram.”

Still a huge amount.

‘I thought 20,000 diram was a lot before…’

Knowing it wasn’t a loss—but actually a huge profit—made her heart pound even harder.

For a second, she imagined herself in a grand mansion, wearing tons of jewelry, tossing stacks of money into the air. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself.

Harriet took a deep breath and pushed that fantasy aside.

“My personal share is smaller, but it sounds like the company is doing really well.”

“Exactly. You also said you wanted to expand the olive and herb farms at the convent, so we’ve set aside money for that. And we’ve prepared some emergency funds for unexpected costs…”

“I’m not complaining. What kind of owner wouldn’t be happy that their business is earning well?”

“You’re very wise. Some people get greedy and take too much for themselves too soon. Then, when trouble comes, the company collapses.”

The accountant nodded in approval.

As Harriet scanned the report again, she hesitated, then asked,

“How long would it take to repay the full investment?”