After a day had passed, Mother and I headed to Father's study, carrying the clothes and design drafts we had prepared.
"Honey, are you busy?"
"I'm not. What brings you here at this hour, dear?"
Without even knocking, Mother opened the door to the study and strode straight up to Father's desk. She placed two documents down in front of him with a firm thud, then said—so confidently it almost felt shameless—
"Honey, please sign these."
"Mother?"
She had said she was going to persuade Father, but what came out of her mouth sounded nothing like the persuasion I knew.
Had the definition of persuasion changed without me realizing?
Or was this all part of some grand plan to test my abilities?
"What is this?" Father asked.
"William wants to make new uniforms for the servants. I've looked them over, and they seem fine, so I thought I'd support him."
"If it's clothing, your eye is better than mine. I'm sure you've handled it well. Do as you please."
"Father?"
While I stood there in confusion, the conversation moved along at lightning speed.
No—there wasn't even anything you could call a "process." It ended the moment it began.
Father glanced briefly at Mother's face, slid the first page of the documents aside without even reading it, picked up his quill, and briskly signed his name at the bottom.
"Here you are."
"Fufu~ Thank you."
Father handed the documents back with a calm, almost indifferent expression, as if this were all perfectly routine. Mother accepted them with a charming smile.
Then she rolled up the papers, slightly bent at the waist, and lightly kissed Father on the cheek before turning on her heel and leaving the study.
"Do you have anything else to say?"
Still stunned by how refreshingly straightforward the whole exchange had been, I stood there blankly until Father cast me a sidelong glance.
"Um… no, nothing."
I hurriedly shook my head.
"Th-thank you, Father."
"Hah. I hardly did anything. Give your thanks to your mother waiting outside."
"Yes, sir."
I bowed a beat too late in gratitude. Father chuckled softly and waved his left hand as if telling me to hurry along.
After a light nod, I picked up the basket I had set down and quietly left the study.
Mother was waiting outside with Emily and Miss Grace, one of the maids. As soon as I stepped out, she began walking and said,
"Now, let's go visit the tailor."
"Yes."
—
After concluding our "cool deal" with Father, we headed outside the estate to the street of commoner tailors in the city center.
Specifically, we went to the shop that regularly made uniforms for the knights belonging to our house.
Even though there was already a tailor within the estate, we had come out because that tailor handled only high-end clothing for nobles. For garments meant for butlers and maids, we had to commission the commoner tailors in town.
"Hmm."
With Emily and Miss Grace at her side, Mother strolled gracefully down the street. Suddenly, she stopped and glanced at the sign of a certain shop.
The sign read: [George's Tailor Shop]—plain and utterly ordinary.
"Let's go in."
After confirming the sign and peering briefly through the window, Mother gave Emily a small nod and gently ordered,
Emily bowed slightly and hurried ahead, opening the door wide for us.
"Welcome!"
A burly man with a warm, friendly face approached us with a booming greeting the moment the door opened.
His hands were thick with calluses. As soon as he saw Mother, his face lit up, and he gestured eagerly for us to come inside.
"Countess! Please don't stand outside—come in, come in!"
"It's good to see you, Sir George."
"It's been quite some time. Have you been well?"
"I'm always well. And you?"
"Yes, thanks to the Count's generosity, we've been doing well."
"Even if it's just flattery, I appreciate it. How's business these days?"
"It's past the season for buying clothes, so it's rather quiet. So quiet that more flies visit than customers."
Mother smiled at Sir George's playful complaint. She held out her hand to Miss Grace, received a bundle of papers, and passed it to him as casually as if she were handing over a small stone.
"That's good to hear. As it happens, I've brought some new work for you."
"That's wonderful news!"
Sir George accepted the bundle respectfully with both hands and began examining it carefully.
However, about halfway through, his brows furrowed. He brought the papers closer to his face, then turned them around to show us and pointed at a particular line.
"Countess, have you recently recruited new knights?"
"No. You know very well it will be quite some time before we do that."
"Yes, but… you're ordering fifty-nine outfits?"
"I'm planning to provide new uniforms for the servants. Unless something special happens, we'll likely place regular orders."
"Haha~ At this rate, thanks to the Count and Countess, we'll never have to worry about starving."
With a wide grin blooming on his face again, Sir George returned his attention to the papers.
"That's quite an exaggeration. So, can you do it?"
"I'll need to see what kind of clothing they are first."
"William."
"Yes."
At Mother's call, I took the design drafts out of the basket and handed them to Sir George.
He unfolded them immediately and stared at the drawings intensely, brows knitted and eyes wide, as if trying to bore holes through the paper.
After carefully examining each sheet one by one, he finally looked up from the last page with a satisfied smile.
"Hmm. Clean… and simple. It shouldn't be too difficult to make. The price is reasonable as well… When would you need them by?"
"That's something we should discuss. It's not urgent, so we're willing to accommodate your schedule as much as possible."
"Hmm…"
Closing his eyes, Sir George pondered for a moment. Before long, he opened them and spoke with confidence.
"With this kind of design, we can manage six one-piece dresses and three tailcoats per month."
"Very well. Then shall we send someone once a month as usual?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Mother gestured to Miss Grace.
Miss Grace stepped forward, handed Sir George a gold coin and two copies of the contract, then stepped back.
"We'll draw up the contract now and pay the advance."
"Hmm…"
Sir George slowly reviewed the contract.
"Is there any issue?"
"No, none at all. Thanks to the Count and Countess, we always seem to be given such great opportunities. I hardly know how to repay you."
He laid the contracts side by side on a nearby table, signed both, then stacked them together and signed once more across them. After that, he respectfully offered the pen to Mother with both hands.
Mother took the pen, signed in the same manner, then set it down. She picked up one copy of the contract and handed it to Miss Grace.
"Sir George, I trust you're looking forward to it."
"Yes, I'll do my utmost."
"Very well, then we'll be on our way."
After concluding a neat and respectful contract—typical of people who had done business together for many years—we left the shop.
Sir George followed us outside to see us off and bowed a full ninety degrees toward our backs.
"Please return safely!"
His booming voice rang through the entire street.
Having secured such a large contract, Sir George looked happier than anyone else in the world.
About a month later, when the day came to receive the first shipment,
a small commotion broke out at the estate.
"Sniff…!"
The head maid—who was usually so reserved that people even called her cold-blooded—was in tears.
She had entered the estate at the young age of fifteen and had worked there for nearly thirty years. A veteran among veterans. Seeing someone like her, unable to control her emotions and shedding heavy tears in front of Mother, made me think something terrible must have happened. I hurried over to Mother.
"Mother."
"Oh my, William. You've come at just the right time."
"Yes?"
The moment she saw me, Mother knelt down with a playful smile on her face and gently took the head maid's hand, whispering in a warm voice.
"Esther, calm yourself and look who has come."
"Hic, y-yes… sniff… sob… William, young master…?"
At Mother's words, the head maid slowly lifted her tear-streaked face. With great effort, she opened her swollen eyes and looked at me.
I didn't know what was going on, but I gave her a gentle smile and nodded.
"Yes, Head Maid, it's me, Willi—"
"Waaah!"
"Huh?"
The moment she realized that I was William, the head maid burst into even louder sobs.
"Y-Young Master… sob…!"
Frozen stiff, unable to understand what was happening, I could only stare blankly at her. Meanwhile, still calling out to me, she crawled across the floor and clutched at the hem of my trousers.
"Young Master, sob… waaah!"
"Head Maid? Please, calm down first…"
"Sniff… sob… hic!"
I hurriedly patted her shoulder in an attempt to calm her, but her crying showed no signs of stopping. Instead, it began drawing the attention of everyone around us.
And since she was clinging to my pants while collapsed on the floor, the stares that had been directed at her gradually shifted toward me.
The servants' piercing gazes.
"Waaahhh!"
"So what on earth is going on here…?"
As I continued patting the head maid in an effort to soothe her, I couldn't help but feel deeply wronged.