Chapter 201. Side Story. Spring, Again (1)
Penelope Rosemore. And Clarisse Rosemore.
In the past, the two women's life trajectories ran to opposite extremes.
One was, at 14, a genius Alchemist of the kind who appears once every 100 years. The sun of Social Circles, and the true power behind the Rosemore Count Family.
The other was an outcast from Social Circles, expelled from university, and holder of a triple crown in failed business ventures. Commonly known as the useless flower.
Of course, Penelope had long since bid farewell to that shabby past. After all, she was now the head of Y&P Trading Company, the Royal Trading Company leading the Culinary Revolution in Nortaris, the Kingdom's culinary capital.
But what mattered here was the past. The story of the two sisters.
Back when Penelope had been scraping along at rock bottom, Clarisse's Backroom Dealings had been behind it all. Ruining her younger sister's debut into Social Circles. Sabotaging every single one of her businesses from the shadows.
All of it, in fact, had been instigated by Clarisse.
How hurt and shocked Penelope had been upon learning that fact!
Never again would she trust people (except Jurgen, Serena, and Brigitte)—Penelope had firmly resolved.
But there had been yet another twist.
All of it had been a tearful, desperate struggle to protect Penelope from the monster who ruled over the Rosemore Family.
Upon learning that truth, Penelope and Clarisse had dramatically reconciled. Now Y&P and the Rosemore Family had joined forces on a united front for the Culinary Revolution.
It should, by all rights, have ended happily ever after.
"Haah..."
Clarisse pressed a hand to her forehead.
There was still a problem.
The two sisters were still, hopelessly, desperately awkward with each other.
This had become Clarisse's greatest worry these days.
And it made sense, too. Who was Clarisse Rosemore, after all?
A cold-blooded survivor of Social Circles as cutthroat as a den of thieves. A woman more comfortable giving orders than making requests, more familiar with signatures than embraces. The most competent Family Head in Rosemore history, and at the same time... the most boring.
As a rule, noble people tended to be dull, and Clarisse was no great exception to that formula. Naturally, harmonious little chats with her younger sister had never once been on the agenda of her life.
"Hmmmm..."
For one thing, there was her promise to her beloved sister... She genuinely wanted to reconcile with her... She kept making up excuses just to hover around... But she simply lacked the warmth to smile brightly and greet her with a How have you been?
If she'd done nothing wrong and could hold her head high, she might have found some way to fake naturalness with her social skills... But with her Original Sin weighing on her, she only shrank back all the more.
Amid such worries, Clarisse mulled over her past visits.
The first visit had been about 2 weeks ago.
If it's this...
Clarisse had visited Penelope under the pretext of coordinating culinary business matters.
There had been only two items to coordinate. Something that would've taken half a day if she'd simply sent an aide.
In fact, before she'd set out, her aide had cautiously offered his advice.
My Lady, a matter this small could easily be handled by post...
Clarisse glared silently at her aide.
I—I'll get things ready.
Good.
Clarisse rode her carriage half a day to stand before Penelope.
Why'd you come all the way here for something like this?
Still...
Alright, I'll get it corrected. Could you just sign this for me first? Done? I'm busy, so I'll head back in, okay?
For reference, the signing itself had taken all of 8 seconds.
But Clarisse did not give up.
The second visit had been last week.
She hadn't had a proper excuse to go see Penelope. To begin with, Y&P Trading Company had ended up receiving all sorts of support from Rosemore almost like a super-favored partner, and unlike other ventures, there were no complicated matters left to hash out.
After much agonizing, the secret weapon Clarisse had pulled out was...
Penelope, I left a pen behind last time—have you seen it?
A pen? Was it expensive?
Not expensive, but...
Penelope rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a pen.
Ah, was it this one? Take it. I'm a bit busy, so... I'll go now?
...Go on, then.
And that had been the end of the conversation.
Even in hindsight, it had been a hopeless excuse for a conversation.
At this point, Clarisse was starting to wonder if Penelope was actually avoiding her.
"This won't do."
Clarisse made up her mind.
This time, she would absolutely mend things with her younger sister.
"Sister? What brings you here?"
"I was just passing by."
Needless to say, the Y&P Company Building was nowhere near anything Clarisse might call passing by. Clarisse, busy handling all manner of Family affairs, had forced herself to make time.
Having no way of knowing this, Penelope simply took it at face value. Figuring that the Rosemore Family Head, the universally acknowledged Overlord of the North, might well go trotting all over the North after all.
"Could you get me a cup of tea? I'm a little worn out today, and I'd like some."
"Sure."
Here lay a crucial fact.
The truth was, Penelope herself wasn't the least bit comfortable with Clarisse suddenly barging into her office either.
It couldn't be helped.
Whatever the circumstances had been, Penelope had felt a raw, aching sense of betrayal toward Clarisse.
More than anything, there was a long blank space between the two of them. The time they'd spent not facing each other had rusted over and now stood as a wall between them.
"......"
"......"
A suffocating silence.
Only the clink of teacup against saucer rang out, unusually loud.
Thinking that at this rate, it would be no different from last time, Clarisse spoke up first.
"The weather's really warmed up."
"Huh? Oh... well, it's spring?"
"Right, spring is warm."
Clink.
"...I noticed you've put in a new flower bed in the garden."
"Ah. Yeah. Brigitte's growing herbs. She's been staring at it all day lately."
"Herbs? Should I send you some, if you need them? I'm sure there are herbs in the Demon Realm too..."
"No, no, it's just a hobby. She says growing them is fun, apparently?"
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
"......"
"......"
Silence again.
Clarisse felt a sense of crisis, along with sweat trickling down her spine.
Clink.
At that very moment, when only the teacups clinked ceaselessly—
Outside the door of Penelope's office. Through the slightly open crack in the door, three pairs of eyes were lined up vertically.
"Ugh, my stomach hurts just watching this..."
At the top was Serena. For someone as faint of heart as her, the very sight of the two sisters' conversation was unbearably uncomfortable. Just watching was enough to give her prickling goosebumps.
"Um, are the two of them on bad terms?"
Brigitte, in the middle, whispered the question.
"Miss Brigitte, that's not being on bad terms."
"Huh? Then what is it?"
"It's that there's no relationship between them at all."
"Ahh...!"
At the bottom, Aiden summed it up quietly.
It was an accurate diagnosis of the current situation.
And so the conversation drew to a close without the faintest trace of progress.
"...I, um, have a meeting coming up soon."
"R- right. Sorry for taking up your time when you're busy."
Clarisse rose from her seat, a sense of failure washing over her.
She grasped the doorknob, hesitated a moment, then—
"...Thanks for the tea."
"Ah. Yeah. Get home safe."
With barely this one line exchanged, she turned and left.
Penelope sat staring blankly down at the two cooled teacups.
"...Maybe I should've brought out some snacks."
The meeting hadn't even been for another 30 minutes, to begin with.
Didn't this make it look like she'd practically chased her sister out?
"Argh, forget it!"
Penelope stretched out on the sofa, resting her neck against it.
Seen this way, reconciliation really was a difficult thing.
Clarisse's feet, on her way to the carriage, came to an abrupt halt.
This wouldn't do.
To begin with, she had no pretext left for a fourth visit.
Clarisse Rosemore, the North's greatest negotiator, made a cool-headed judgment.
When direct negotiations between the parties broke down, there was only one next step to take.
Go find an expert.
And if there was an expert in this city who knew Penelope best...
—Jingle.
"Hm? Miss Clarisse?"
Jurgen greeted the guest who'd stepped in so awkwardly.
The ruler of the North, the Family Head of the Rosemore Count Family, stood stiffly by the door.
"What brings you here? Without any word beforehand."
"Mister Jurgen... No, Sir Ainsworth... No, Your Excellency...?"
"It's Jurgen. As you can see."
"Right, then I'll go with Mister Jurgen."
Clarisse cleared her throat and sat down awkwardly across from Jurgen.
It was a different kind of awkwardness from the one with Penelope.
Jurgen, gazing steadily at Clarisse, tossed out a light joke.
"I didn't expect you to come looking for me on your own. Is this another scouting offer, by any chance?"
"You're being mean. Han— no, Mister Jurgen."
Clarisse's face flushed.
After all, back when she hadn't known his true identity, she had a track record of trying to win him over, threaten him, and size him up.
Looking back now, it had been an act of sheer ignorance, mortifying beyond words.
"Ahem."
Clearing her throat, Clarisse spoke.
"I have a favor to ask."
"I'm sorry, but if it's a scouting offer from the Rosemore Family, I'll have to decline."
"...Please take that particular story to your grave."
In front of the sly, grinning general store owner, Clarisse took a deep breath.
And then she spoke honestly.
No roundabout excuses, no plausible-sounding business matters.
"I want to... reconcile with my sister."
"Reconcile? Didn't you two already do that?"
"We did. We did, but..."
Clarisse quietly clenched her fist over her skirt.
"...I honestly have no idea what to do after that."
How could they ever go back to being like they used to be?
Who would ever declare that they were the sisters they used to be once more?
Was she supposed to apologize once more and simply accept the reconciliation offered?
And after that?
Was she just supposed to put on an unbothered face, chat about whatever, and act as though nothing had ever happened?
Part of her wished she could do exactly that. While another part, a stinging pang of conscience, insisted she absolutely could not.
"You, of all people, must know Penelope better than anyone, Mister Jurgen. Since you're her lover."
"Well, I- I suppose that's true."
"Then please tell me. What should I do?"
Having listened to Clarisse's heartfelt confession, Jurgen rubbed his chin.
Jurgen, for his part, found himself thoroughly at a loss.
He'd figured it was something time would sort out on its own, and yet—was a wound, once festered, really so slow to heal?
More than anything... Jurgen himself was utterly hopeless when it came to delicate matters of human relationships.
Perhaps because his troubled state showed plainly on his face, Clarisse's own expression darkened along with his.
"No, never mind. I shouldn't have brought it up. Please forget what I just said."
"......"
"I think I was being far too selfish."
"N- no...!"
Jurgen hurriedly stopped Clarisse.
"Wait a moment. Why are you in such a rush? I was thinking it over, thinking it over."
"Is that... so?"
"Of course."
Clarisse's eyes, so much like Penelope's. Watching hope well up softly within them...
That's twice the pressure...
Jurgen broke out in a cold sweat, racking his brain desperately.
When it came to anything involving Penelope, it mattered a great deal to Jurgen too.
What should he do?
"Oho."
Just then, a brilliant idea flashed through Jurgen's mind.
Flap!
Jurgen pulled a pure white apron from inside his coat.
"Can you cook, at all?"
"Not in the slightest."
"Perfect."
Jurgen grinned.