16.
Since she had been branded a troublemaker, no one would dare blame John for cutting off his guardianship.
‘Did he calculate even this far when he framed me for Bella’s misdeeds?’
She felt utterly toyed with.
Looking around, Harriet exhaled a breath tainted with absurdity and resentment. She tossed the gold pieces she had been clutching onto the bed and fled the room.
She headed straight for the chapel.
The days had grown shorter; the candles were already flickering in their sconces, but the pews were hollow. At this hour, the others would be sequestered in their rooms.
Harriet, who had sprinted the distance, gasped for air as she stood before the statue of the saint. She stepped forward, one heavy pace at a time.
“What… did I do wrong?”
*Thump, thump.*
“Was it not enough that you took my parents away from me? Was there still more despair left to heap upon me?”
*Thump, thump.*
“This is too much. If you’re going to call suicide a sin, you should at least leave me some hope to live on!”
She reached the altar.
Standing before the statue of Yawar, who looked down at her with a serene, benevolent smile, tears spilled from her eyes. The sight of that expression felt like a taunt, and for a fleeting moment, she wanted to strike it from the stone.
“What do you want me to do? What should I do? Don’t just smile—say something!”
Words of raw, directionless resentment burst forth.
Harriet collapsed onto the floor, a jagged, wailing sob tearing through her throat.
She wanted to hate her uncle, but he had no true obligation to raise his niece like a daughter. As he had coldly pointed out, she ought to have been grateful he looked after her until she came of age.
If so, was it her own fault for trusting him?
‘But what else could I have done? What power did I have!’
In the end, there was no one left to resent but God.
Just as Harriet was losing control of her mounting hysteria, a stern voice cut through the air behind her.
“What is the meaning of this! How dare you make such a ruckus in a sacred chapel!”
In the past, the mere sound of Catherine’s voice would have sent her jumping up to fold her hands in respect, but Harriet was beyond such decorum now.
If anything, the presence of someone she knew only deepened her sense of isolation.
“Mother! Oh, Mother! Waaaah.”
“Sister Harriet?”
Catherine had been passing by when she heard the wailing, expecting a genuine emergency. Upon seeing Harriet, her expression grew even more solemn.
“Calm yourself, first. Crying like this will solve nothing!”
“*Hic*, *sob*, what, what do I do? What on earth am I supposed to…”
“Get up. It’s not good for your health to sit on the cold floor.”
Catherine comforted the distraught girl and managed to guide her to a chapel pew.
She sat beside her, rubbing Harriet’s back, waiting for the tremors to subside. After long, racking gasps, Harriet finally went still, though she continued to stare blankly into the shadows.
Catherine took Harriet’s hands.
“Tell me what happened.”
Even then, she had assumed the worst Harriet faced was the prospect of ‘staying at the convent for one more year.’
However, the story that spilled from Harriet’s lips left her momentarily speechless.
“What did you say? Termination of guardianship? Does that mean…”
“It means that even if I leave this place next June, I have nowhere to go. I have no relatives I keep in touch with, no friends. I don’t even have a single coin to my name.”
“He cut off your guardianship so suddenly—without introducing you to a new sponsor or providing funds?”
Then again, if he were the type of man to act otherwise, he would never have dumped her in a convent and severed ties in the first place.
Catherine realized exactly what John was orchestrating.
‘He intends for her to never leave this place. He wants her to become a nun.’
With no inheritance and no home, the only threshold Harriet could cross was that of the convent. Surely, the sisters would not turn away a girl in such a wretched state.
“What miserable people.”
The oath slipped out before she could check it.
Harriet began to weep again.
“My life is over. My only choice now is to die.”
“What are you saying? Dying, you say?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be a nun. To be honest, I’m not particularly religious. I might as well… sell these gold pieces to cover my funeral expenses and end it all…”
“Harriet Listerwell! Pull yourself together!”
Catherine shouted in a tone of sharp authority, unlike anything she had shown before. It was enough to make Harriet’s tears hitch in her throat.
“Are you a human being who can do nothing without your uncle? To entrust your entire existence to someone else—what kind of spineless, irresponsible behavior is this!”
“But… what are you telling me I can do?”
“Anything! But before that, think clearly about the life you actually want to lead. The future you entrusted to your uncle was never yours; it was a mirage.”
Harriet could find no words to respond.
Living ‘moderately’ and ‘peacefully’ after marrying a ‘decent person’ was the extent of the life she had envisioned.
And it was hard to deny that every word in that fantasy had been agonizingly vague.
Catherine gripped Harriet’s shoulders, her gaze piercing.
“Draw a concrete picture of the life you want to live. Consider every connection you have, every capability you possess, even the most trivial. If there is a shred of possibility, you must cling to it.”
“They will point fingers and call me pathetic.”
“Are you afraid of that when you are prepared to die?”
Catherine’s steady, unwavering gaze held Harriet’s flickering eyes.
“You must carve out your own life. Luck only follows those who act.”
* * *
That night, Harriet could not sleep.
Countless thoughts raced through her mind as if dwarves were causing a ruckus inside her skull.
The first realization was that she had been avoiding any real thought of her future for years. She had vaguely assumed things would work out somehow, that she would be able to slip into a life like everyone else’s. Looking back, it was incredibly naive and reckless.
“Think clearly about the kind of life you want to live.”
Catherine’s voice lashed at her from the dark.
For the first time, she truly analyzed herself. Her own desires, stripped of the influence of others’ gazes.
Though she had desperately craved marriage before, she had never once imagined building a happy home.
‘I just wanted to leave my uncle’s house and breathe.’
Though, thinking about it now, she wondered if she could have truly been free even if she had managed to escape through marriage.
‘What do I need to obtain the freedom I desire?’
There was no need to ponder that answer for long.
In an age where factories churned and iron horses raced along rails, something was more potent than honor, something that made even power its servant—that was money.
However, for a woman with nothing, earning money in the commoner world was no easy task.
If a woman who clearly possessed the refinement of a noblewoman wandered the streets, she would likely be seen as nothing more than an easy target to be sold for a high price.
Therefore, she had to scheme for her livelihood within the noble society she already understood.
‘To do that, I have to find another guardian.’
The problem was that she hadn’t met any of her distant relatives since she was twelve.
Who would welcome someone who hadn’t sent a single letter in years, only to reach out now to ask for sponsorship? Especially when her reputation had hit rock bottom.
‘It’s also a problem that I don’t have any particular skills to earn a living.’
A sigh escaped her, thin and ragged in the quiet room.
Her dilemma yielded no answers for several days.
In the meantime, other nuns and monks who learned of her situation came to offer comfort, softly asking if she would like to take vows and stay with them.
For a moment, she thought that living as a nun might not be so bad if it meant remaining among such kind people.
But due to the visit of one person, Harriet discarded that thought instantly.
* * *
“Pardon? Who are you?”
“Alfonso Villey. I hold the title of Baron, but it isn’t a grand house, so you likely haven’t heard of it.”
An old gentleman she had never seen before had come to visit the convent.
He must have been in his early seventies. Since he had traveled four hours by carriage at that age, it seemed to be a matter of considerable importance.
“I apologize, but I have no memory of meeting you, sir. Are you perhaps an acquaintance of my grandparents?”
“Not exactly… I have come due to matters regarding your parents, young lady.”
Harriet’s eyes widened.
It had been an eternity since anyone had mentioned her parents to her.
“What about my parents…?”
When Harriet asked, Alfonso Villey hesitated for a long while before opening his mouth with an expression as if he had finally steeled his resolve.
“I heard that Viscount Listerwell has terminated his guardianship of you, Lady Harriet.”