novelraw Chapter 116
Chapter 116
Chapter 116. The Saint (4)
Cecily, in poor health as she was, could not be made to stand in a long queue.
For a family of the Rosemore's standing, it was customary to keep a villa in each region. Hector headed for the townhouse where Cecily would be waiting, both hands laden with chicken wrapped up in bags.
A villa kept immaculate by its staff despite having gone long without its owner in residence. The sound of slippers striking the smooth marble floor rang out as Cecily came rushing out.
"Grandfather! Is that chicken? Did you buy some?"
He had not originally intended to buy any. There were no attendants along on this trip to begin with, and the queue had been dreadfully long. Above all, it was a Y&P Trading Company establishment.
Having come all this way to put pressure on Penelope, wasn't it rather absurd to stand in a long queue in front of that very shop?
Even while waiting, he had thought more than once about giving up and simply turning back.
"Grandfather, you're the best! Thank you so much."
"Enough of that. What's all this fuss over a thing like this."
"I'd been wanting so much to try it."
But seeing his granddaughter's face break into a broad smile that reached her ears, those three full hours of waiting did not feel quite so bitter.
Cecily took the chicken bag to the kitchen and had everything set out in no time at all.
"Goodness. Grandfather, look at this. The batter is as clear as gold. And this sauce—what about this? It looks just like freshly made strawberry jam!"
"Does it please you that much?"
"Of course. A dish that received the Royal Warrant. I've never seen anything like it."
"Well, CCC is the first in the culinary category, isn't it."
"Above all, Grandfather went and bought it for me."
"Wipe the drool from your mouth before you speak."
Despite the gruff words, Hector sat down across from Cecily.
The newspapers had been going on about CCC doing well lately. From the brief glimpse he'd had of it from the street, it was no ordinary popularity. Getting a number in the five hundreds could be counted as quite good fortune.
Of course, that didn't change what Hector had come to do.
How many great families had been unable to overcome internal division and run themselves aground?
The sinking of a great ship leaves a wretchedness proportionate to the magnificence it once held in its days of glory. The schools of sharks lying in wait for the downfall of the strong would descend upon the crew left floating in the sea.
Men would rot like potatoes in nameless prisons, and women would be sold off like goods.
To say nothing of someone like Cecily—a commodity with no particular talent or value—who would be abandoned in some hospital to die quietly and alone.
"Nom nom nom nom."
Penelope was a dangerous element whose reckless behaviour, born of forgetting her place, could bring about a fracture within the family. Hector had an obligation to prevent that.
An obligation he had shouldered for decades.
"Nom nom nom nom nom nom."
No, more than that.
"Does it taste that good?"
"Yes! Grandfather. It seems worthy of the Royal Warrant! It's the most delicious thing I've ever eaten in my life."
Hector stared blankly at his beloved granddaughter. This was Cecily, who had remained unmoved no matter what excellent cook was brought before her.
Being a small eater by nature, he remembered vividly how she had barely taken to her wet nurse's milk.
And yet that same Cecily was eating with such wholehearted relish.
"Sister Penelope is truly remarkable. To create something this extraordinary……."
Cecily seemed genuinely moved, clutching a drumstick reverently as she gave a little shiver.
"Come now, Grandfather, you must try some too."
"I'm fine. Eat plenty."
"Are you truly not going to have any? When it is this delicious?"
Cecily's endearing behaviour was charming, yet Hector declined the chicken.
Cecily might not know any better, but wasn't it rather inconsistent for Hector to eat the chicken here? Buying it in the first place was already the furthest concession he was prepared to make.
"Grandfather, you absolutely must have some. If I have to eat this alone, then I shan't eat it either."
"Hmph, all right. Always take after your father with this business of making a fuss over everything……."
"Ehe he, don't be too surprised?"
Pressed again and again, Hector reluctantly put his knife to the broad thigh of a Fried Chicken.
―Craackle
"Hmm?"
Something about the sound was strange. Did batter really make this much noise as it crumbled?
"Don't eat it plain—you must dip it in this Gravy Sauce here. I did exactly as I read in the article, so please don't be surprised? It truly is fantastic."
Following Cecily's guidance, Hector pressed a generous amount of the brown sauce onto a piece of chicken and put it in his mouth in one bite.
"……!"
His white eyebrows surged like waves.
What on earth…… Was this?
"Try this one too."
This time, a chicken piece smothered all over in vivid red seasoning. Seasoned Chicken, was it called?
"Hm……!"
Hector's other eyebrow surged in turn. What on earth was this one?
Even as he had watched CCC's success story unfold before his eyes, a corner of his heart had been quietly contemptuous.
A believer ought to guard against gluttony and place the fullness of the soul above a full stomach. Even setting matters of faith aside, people who frittered away their time on mere food had never struck him favourably.
And yet this flavour……
"It's delicious, isn't it?"
"I, I suppose it is."
Was more than enough to overturn Hector's preconceptions with ease.
Flesh that melted away strand by strand in the mouth, impossible to believe it was deep-fried meat. A red seasoning he had never tasted in his life, yet one that inspired a powerful craving from the very first bite. The skin in particular—crumbling apart like biscuit and bringing forth a depth of savoury flavour—was a delicacy unto itself.
He felt he could tear it off on its own and have it as a drinking snack.
No, what he needed right now was not drink.
Hector reached for the Cola he had bought alongside the chicken.
Gulp gulp gulp.
"Aaahhh……!"
Hector, who had knocked back Cola until the prickling sensation was just short of turning to pain. The sharp carbonation swept away every trace of rich grease from his mouth and throat in one clean pass.
A food with such a brief history, yet the two paired together as though they had been sold as a set for some hundred years—a perfect match.
"You see, I told you we should eat together."
Cecily smiled brightly and refilled his empty glass with Cola. But Hector had no room to respond.
He slowly savoured the rest of the food spread across the table.
"……."
Fried Chicken, Seasoned Chicken, Gravy Sauce, Mashed Potato, Cola.
Not a single one had been carelessly made.
One could easily imagine how much deliberation, trial and error, and effort had been poured into each.
That family runt who had never been able to hold her own. That useless flower. What kind of effort must she have put in to bloom this magnificently?
If only she had not been of the direct line. Or if, like Clarisse, she had bloomed even a little earlier. Perhaps much would have been different.
"Tch."
Hector clicked his tongue.
***
The following morning. Having confirmed that Cecily was sound asleep, Hector took up his cane and hat and stepped out into the street.
Autumn in Nortaris was cold from its very first days. Parting through the fog that had settled like a veil overnight, he arrived at the building that served as both the Cola Wholesale Direct Sales Location and Y&P Trading Company's company building.
"Look at the state of this building……."
Having let slip a word of casual disparagement, Hector stepped inside by way of the staircase leading to the second floor.
The interior was tidier than it appeared. Insulation against the harsh winter and a wood-burning stove had been installed, and an understated elegance quietly bespoke a certain refinement.
"It has been a while, Great-Uncle."
Penelope, who had been working through documents at her table, gave a light nod of greeting. Hector paused momentarily at Penelope's unfamiliar reaction.
Until not so very long ago, Penelope had behaved like a frightened deer at the sight of him.
But now, she did not so much as stir at Hector's unannounced arrival. From her, as she silently scratched away with her pen without sparing him a glance, he sensed a composed fortitude—or perhaps something even closer to a certain resolve.
"Penelope, I have come to make you one final offer."
"Please, go ahead."
"Clarisse tells me you bit off her right arm. Is that true?"
She offered no reply, but it would be true. Her steady crimson eyes said as much.
It was also why Hector had stirred himself to act.
Penelope had set herself on a course of outright hostility toward Clarisse.
Had it been merely a matter of emotional posturing, it might have been no great problem. But Penelope had dealt with Bell, and forged business ties with the young ladies who stood against the Rosemore family.
"Having poison in you is fine. Possessing spirit is fine too. But one must choose one's opponents carefully, must one not? Who better than you to know what kind of person Clarisse is?"
Had Clarisse set her ambitions, she could have taken on Rupert—the eldest son and heir—without great difficulty. She was that capable, that formidable, and ruthlessly cold-blooded.
"I did not realise you held me in such esteem, Great-Uncle."
Penelope's gaze came to meet him directly. Her tone was measured, but the words were no different from the barb of 'since when did you care so much about me?'
He had no intention of apologising now. Hector had made the best choices available for the sake of the family, and Penelope had time and again chosen the path that strayed from what was best.
And in this very moment too, it was Penelope who had brought crisis upon herself through an impulsive decision.
But as that resentment was something he could understand, Hector did not lose his temper.
"I tried your chicken and Cola. They were remarkable."
"……."
"I am not saying your methods are right. However, I confirmed that your talent can be put to use for the family."
Penelope's widened eyes wavered.
"I know you have worked hard. I will speak with Clarisse on your behalf."
A heavy silence followed.
The mask of composure Penelope had been wearing crumpled like a sheet of paper. A single utterance forced its way out between twisted lips, as though chewed over and ground down.
"Why…… only now……."
Foolish relief, humiliation, anger, hatred.
In those brief few words, countless emotions bled and spread like pigment through water.
When Penelope closed her eyes and opened them again. At least outwardly, no trace of agitation remained.
"……What is the price?"
Hector's recognition did not lead unconditionally to reconciliation and a dramatic mending of ties. What he was offering was mediation in a situation that, under ordinary circumstances, would have turned into all-out war with no room for dialogue.
"Step back from Y&P Trading Company now. But I will ensure that what you have built is protected. I will not allow Clarisse to trample Y&P Trading Company into the ground. Cecily is rather fond of your products, after all."
"……What do you mean by that?"
"Sell your stake to that commoner business partner of yours. Do that, and everything will return to its proper place. You will return to your rightful place as a daughter of the Rosemore family, prepare for marriage, and be kept clear of the family's affairs."
This was the best offer Hector could extend.
Penelope's ears received it as such.
To begin with, a contest of strength between Penelope and Clarisse was not something that could be made equal. She had built a safety net through franchise expansion to prevent Clarisse from making a rash first move, but……
She had ended up killing Bell, as it happened. The current lull she had secured by drawing in the Saint was a precarious illusion, nothing more than buying time. If clear evidence that 'Bell = Dark Mage' could not be found in that interval, Clarisse would eventually move.
At that juncture, Hector's offer carried a different nuance from the humiliating surrender Bell had once laid before her.
A guarantee of Y&P's continued existence, recognition of Penelope's accomplishments, and absolution from the worst possible repercussions that could stem from Bell's death. Had the mention of Cecily not been included, it would have been conditions so favourable as to invite doubt of their sincerity.
It was the finest escape route available to Penelope, who had made up her mind—half out of sheer stubbornness—to stand against her elder sister.
For Penelope's sake. For Jurgen's sake. For Y&P Trading Company's sake.
"Penelope."
Hector rose from his seat and patted Penelope on the shoulder. From that rough palm came the faint warmth of affection, of encouragement, and of comfort.
"You have worked hard, until now."
Penelope could not bring herself to say a single word.