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SMR | CH 19

~Chapter 19~

“Crazy guy…”

“You’d have to be at least a little crazy to be a member of Cedric Kailas’ secret organization, wouldn’t you? Hmm… It’s still such a thrilling word, ‘secret agent.’”

“Please, enough…”

Cedric felt a shiver down his spine from second-hand embarrassment. His friend, Edgar, might look like a carefree playboy, but he was incredibly smart and quick-witted. Sending him to the Kingdom of Kandia as a spy under the guise of studying abroad had seemed like the safest plan. If only he had known that Edgar’s father, Count Dawson, would be so suspicious of his son’s “diligence,” he would have come up with a different excuse.

Cedric’s head throbbed, but Edgar remained completely unbothered.

“Anyway, my father got furious and kicked me out, so I’ll be staying here for a while. You wouldn’t be so cold as to cut off an agent who’s on bad terms with his family because of his work, right?”

It wasn’t exactly wrong, and besides, having Edgar around made it easier to process information, so Cedric had no reason to refuse his request.

“There are plenty of empty rooms. Pick whichever one you like.”

“Being the loyal servant of Duke Kailas isn’t so bad. You even offer rooms freely. Ha ha ha!”

The light conversation with Edgar ended. The two sat quietly, sipping their tea, allowing the silence to settle between them. But while Edgar seemed relaxed, Cedric’s thoughts wandered back to Harriet—the woman who had been abandoned at the convent after her guardianship had been cut off.

‘Did I make a mistake?’

Back then, he’d been flustered after losing his father’s brooch, and he believed the gossip that Harriet had been wearing it to show off. Her reaction, which seemed genuinely hurt, had made him wonder if he had misunderstood the situation. He had backed off, thinking that was enough.

‘But because of that incident, a woman’s life was ruined…’

He rarely regretted his decisions, but in that case, he couldn’t deny he had acted too rashly.

Just then, Edgar, who had been chewing on a cookie, swallowed and asked, “By the way, where do you plan to visit during the festival week this year?”

After a brief pause, Cedric replied, “I’m going to visit St. Clarissa Convent this year. They sent medical staff during the Kypren war, and I haven’t properly thanked them yet.”

There was another reason for his visit, but he didn’t feel the need to explain that.


The last week of the year was called “Festival Week.” It included the Feast of St. Antonio, the Feast of St. Valencia, and the Feast of St. Miente, one after another. During this time, it was customary for nobles to visit temples where they prayed or convents they were associated with and make donations.

People were curious about where Cedric, known as a war hero, would make his first visit since his victory, but he kept his plans private and headed to St. Clarissa Convent. Since the convent received the news of his visit so late, they hadn’t had much time to prepare.

“Welcome, Duke Kailas. I am Mother Superior Catherine Emilosa.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Cedric Kailas. I delayed contacting you to avoid burdening the convent, but I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

“It was a bit surprising, but I understand your intentions.”

Catherine felt something strange about Cedric’s demeanor. He was very polite and didn’t act arrogantly or try to show off, but there was still a sense of distance, like an invisible wall between them.

‘Is this what they mean by the difference in status?’

It wasn’t a feeling she had experienced even when meeting the Pope, so she wasn’t sure how to judge Cedric. But one thing was clear: he was more courteous than any other donor she had met.

Cedric listened carefully as Catherine guided him through the convent and occasionally asked serious questions, showing a genuine interest in the place. Despite the cold weather, he even wanted to tour the farm and facilities outside.

“An olive farm at a convent, how unique.”

“It’s common for women’s convents. The income from processing and selling the harvest here makes up a large part of our operating costs.”

“Is it only women’s convents?”

“Most of them, yes.”

Catherine answered with a bitter smile. Cedric didn’t press her further and turned his attention to another area. There were a few shabby wooden buildings standing apart from each other.

“What are those for?”

“Oh, those are our workshops. That one is for pressing olive oil, and the other is where we make soap. In this building, we produce various herb-related products…”

As Catherine continued her explanation, Cedric’s gaze remained fixed on the soap workshop. Through an open window meant for ventilation, he saw a woman.

‘That’s… that woman, isn’t it?’

Her once blotchy skin had cleared up, but her overall appearance hadn’t changed much, making her easy to recognize. However, her condition was unexpected. She was wearing shabby, worn-out sleeves, and she was stirring something in a large pot with a ladle, tapping her lower back as if tired.

Cedric furrowed his brow slightly.

For nobles, “work” usually involved reading documents, analyzing, or investing—definitely not physical labor. Even if they were imprisoned for a crime, they wouldn’t be put to hard labor.

Yet here Harriet was, doing work that seemed fit for common monks. Even if it was part of a religious practice, wasn’t this going too far?

‘I thought she’d be spending her time leisurely, reading or doing needlework.’

Was she being treated like a commoner just because the Viscount Listerwell family had cut off their support? Cedric cast one last glance at her and then returned to his conversation with Catherine, moving to another location.

Finally, when they were seated in a small sitting room of the convent, Cedric didn’t make much small talk. Instead, he presented a donation.

“Please use it for something good.”

The box he handed over was filled with bundles of 100-dirham bills. It looked like about 100,000 dirhams.

Catherine’s eyes widened in surprise, but Cedric brushed it off.

“It looks like a lot because of the volume, but it’s actually not much. I thought smaller bills would be easier for you to use.”

Though he said it wasn’t much, this was the largest donation Catherine had ever received. St. Clarissa’s Convent wasn’t a powerful or large institution, and the donations they usually received were at most around 10,000 dirhams.

“This will be a great help to the convent’s operations. Thank you so much, Your Grace.”

“It’s nothing. During the Kiphren War, your convent sent skilled nurses, and I was greatly helped by that. This is hardly enough to repay you. Besides, if I donated a large amount all at once, it would attract unnecessary attention.”

Catherine was also surprised that he remembered the contribution. After all, the convent had only sent five monks and nuns who were skilled in herbal medicine.

“Thank you so much for remembering our small convent. And for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit.”

Catherine expressed her gratitude again. Just as it seemed like the conversation was wrapping up, Cedric leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee.

“By the way, may I request a meeting?”

“A meeting? With whom?”

“Harriet Listerwell, the young lady who arrived about six months ago.”

Only then did Catherine recall the scandal involving Harriet and Cedric. She hesitated, looking flustered. But Cedric seemed to expect it would be possible, and it wasn’t easy to refuse, especially since he had just made a large donation.

“P-please wait a moment.”

Catherine hurried to find Harriet. When she explained the situation to Harriet, who had 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 plenty of excuses.”

However, Harriet saw no reason to avoid Cedric.

Hadn’t she made it clear back then that it wasn’t her doing? Whether he believed her or not was his choice, but just because he saw her as guilty didn’t mean she actually was.

“It’s fine. He probably just wants to see if I’m truly repenting.”

Harriet brushed off the dirt from her sleeves and quickly tidied her hair before following Catherine into the sitting room.

The man who turned his head a moment late still had the same unforgettable face from six months ago.

“It’s been a while, Your Grace,” she said.

“Yes, it has. Have you been well?”

“Yes.”

There was no need for a longer answer.

She didn’t elaborate. There was no need to. Harriet sat across from Cedric. She gave Catherine a reassuring smile as the Mother Superior left the room, but she couldn’t muster the same for Cedric—the very man who had been responsible for sending her to this place. Of course, Cedric didn’t seem to mind.

“You said you wanted to see me.”

 

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