The Villainess Builds a Department Store - Chapter 22

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Villainess Establishes a Department Store

Chapter 22

I remembered the existence of the preserved meat again after a full two weeks had passed, one afternoon while I was eating Sachertorte as a snack with Antoine.

“Antoine. Play by yourself for a moment. Older Sister is going to see Father.”

“Go together.”

“Hmm… Should we?”

Small hands wriggled as they firmly grasped mine.

Since there still hadn’t been any word of an explosion accident in Father’s study, it was half a success.

In the study, there was someone who had arrived first again this time.

A familiar face to both Antoine and me—it was Guillaume.

“Guillaume is here too? Antoine, you should greet Guillaume.”

Antoine shyly just nodded his head and wriggled as he clung to my waist.

Guillaume looked completely comfortable as if Father’s study were his own space.

Compared to him, our Father, who was dressed in attire befitting noble formality and dignity even though he was at home, looked more like a guest instead.

Wait, but the pants Guillaume is wearing look somehow familiar.

That bright blue color and stiff fabric are definitely…

“Denim! Guillaume is wearing them too?”

“This? Haha. At first I thought it was ridiculous, but when I actually tried them on, they weren’t uncomfortable to move in and they hold up fine even when rolling around on dirt floors—not bad at all! No, they’re so popular among the workers that you can’t get them even if you want to.”

“That much?”

“Of course. Since the price is cheap too, many people buy them as a trial and then buy several more pairs.”

I don’t know what kind of work the owner of a trading company does that involves rolling around on dirt floors, but anyway, it’s fortunate that they’re popular.

“Come to think of it, the idea of making clothes from sailcloth was something you came up with, wasn’t it Adele? My goodness. First the phonograph and now this—you keep surprising this old man.”

“What did I really do? Anyone can just talk about ideas.”

I wasn’t being falsely modest.

If Father had dismissed what I said, would denim pants have ever been made?

But this wasn’t the time to be chatting like this.

“Father. Have you seen a glass jar by any chance?”

“A glass jar?”

“I definitely left it somewhere around here… Ah, here it is.”

Fortunately, Father’s desk hadn’t changed much from two weeks ago, so I was able to find the preserved meat quickly.

“Preserved meat?”

Guillaume showed interest.

“It’s apricot sugar syrup preserved meat. I made it myself.”

“I was just getting hungry, so this works out well. Could this old man have just one?”

“Huh?”

Guillaume’s eyes gleamed strangely, and he even went to the cupboard to get plates and forks, acting on behalf of the study’s owner.

But would he really react like that if he knew the contents of the jar had been left at room temperature for a full two weeks?

“I’ll enjoy this.”

“Ah, wait, wait a moment!”

Before I could stop him, the candle wax that had firmly sealed the gaps around the edges broke apart and the cork stopper popped out with a loud sound.

“Um, Guillaume! Actually, those apricots…”

“Munch munch. Mmm?”

“…Are they edible?”

Guillaume’s mouth was already full of apricots. So much so that I wondered if he might collapse from a blood sugar spike before food poisoning.

“…Gulp. It’s delicious? You made it well.”

Guillaume nodded while even sucking the syrup off his fingers.

Success!

Only then could I secretly feel relieved.

“You…”

I wasn’t the only one surprised by Guillaume’s actions.

“Do you know how long that’s been sitting there and you ate it…?”

Thanks to his overly action-oriented friend, Father had aged considerably in just a few minutes.

“…Weeks.”

“Huh?”

“Two weeks.”

“What?”

“It’s been two whole weeks! To eat something like that without a care—what kind of omnivorous animal are you?”

“…This has been sitting for two weeks?”

Blink blink.

Guillaume just blinked his eyes as he asked back. His face was full of shock as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Are… are you really okay?”

Guillaume’s face instantly turned pale as he finally realized what he had eaten.

“Ugh!”

“Now, now. It was made by my daughter—surely you’re not going to spit it out in front of the person who made it?”

Unable to either spit out or swallow the apricot he had just eaten, Guillaume made a tearful face.

But that was only momentary—the wrinkles that had filled his brow melted away like sugar dissolved in water, and his face returned to one clearly intoxicated with sweet happiness.

“…Why is it delicious?”

His tone suggested he truly couldn’t understand it.

It’s a bit hurtful when you put it that way…

“Ah, Adelaide. What on earth is going on here?”

I smiled brightly and explained.

“Even with the same soup, one that’s been cooled and boiled again lasts longer than one that’s just been boiled, right? So I reheated the fruit preserve in the jar while it was still hot. And I sealed it with candle wax so nothing dirty could get in through the cork stopper.”

“Ooh… And so it’s still fine even now after two weeks have passed?”

Nod nod.

I confidently assured Father.

“Father. You said it’s hard to eat fresh fruit on ships, right?”

“That’s right. Don’t tell me you…”

“I’ll ask the kitchen to make lots of preserved meat for you. So you can eat fresh fruit even in the middle of the ocean.”

This time I’ll make sure you can eat to your heart’s content.

“She’s my daughter, but she’s truly clever.”

Scratch scratch. Charles’s pen, which had been moving ceaselessly, stopped its movement.

Instead of responding, Guillaume only raised his eyes to observe the expression of his business partner and close friend.

Adelaide’s preserved meat must have pleased him greatly, as Charles’s lips had shown no intention of coming down from their upward curve for quite some time.

“When did our daughter become so dependable…”

“Children naturally grow quickly even when you don’t see them for just a short while.”

At first glance, it sounded like typical parental bragging. But Guillaume could read the real feelings hidden within that pleased sentence.

“To think I have to board a ship again, leaving such a child behind…”

As expected. A lament-filled murmur followed.

The eldest son of the Charmeuze Viscountcy. The family’s heir. The guardian of a legacy passed down through generations.

Charles had wanted to escape from the duties assigned to him from the moment he was born.

So he formed a friendship with Guillaume, a commoner.

Instead of tending to his territory, he boarded ships and went out into the world.

Rather than protecting his inheritance, he discovered new cultures.

He had never once regretted that choice.

But when he suddenly looked back, there were children who had grown up without their father, and a wife who offered prayers daily with her ailing body.

A few months at the shortest, a year at the longest.

Each time he returned to the estate, an unfamiliar child would greet him, calling him Father with joy.

The son he remembered crawling on the floor was now walking on his own two feet without anyone’s help.

The daughter who wouldn’t stop crying until her eyes were swollen on the night before departure no longer cried.

At some point, he was no longer happy about the moments when he confirmed his children’s growth.

Rather, he felt regretful, disappointed, and sorry.

The husband of a beloved wife. The father of two children.

Was it truly the right choice to board a ship, leaving behind that name and responsibility?

Moreover, he had recently felt unfamiliar when he saw Adele’s grown appearance.

Charles couldn’t answer.

“Perhaps this voyage might be the last one where I personally take charge.”

Guillaume’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed like needles.

He prided himself on having a keen eye for people as a merchant.

Through those eyes, he could see that his friend had already made his decision. Though the person himself didn’t know it yet.

“Then why not cancel this voyage? How comfortable could it be to sail with such feelings? It’s not like you’re desperate for money.”

As he organized documents and casually probed, sure enough, as expected, instead of immediately rebelling, Charles was lost in deep thought with a serious expression.

“Don’t become like me.”

Guillaume patted Charles’s shoulder and offered heartfelt advice.

Even after the guest left the estate, the light in the study remained on for a long time.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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