A day passed, and carrying the clothes and patterns I'd prepared, I headed to Father's office with Mother.
"Dear, are you busy?"
"Not at all. What brings you here at this hour, my lady?"
Mother strode into the office without even knocking, plunked two documents squarely on Father's desk, and declared with a boldness that bordered on audacity.
"Dear, sign these for me."
"Mother?"
She had said she was here to persuade Father, but her words were nothing like the persuasion I knew.
Had the concept of persuasion changed without me noticing?
Or was this part of Mother's grand scheme to test my abilities?
"What are these?"
"William wants to make new uniforms for the servants. They look good to me, so I'm giving him a push."
"You have a better eye for clothes than I do, so I'm sure you've handled it well. Do as you like."
"Father?"
While I stood there confused, the conversation raced ahead.
Or rather, there wasn't much of a conversation—it ended almost as soon as it began.
Father glanced at Mother's face, casually pushed the first page aside without reading it, picked up his quill, and swiftly signed the bottom.
"Here you are."
"Hee-hee~ Thank you."
Father neatly gathered the documents with his usual impassive expression and handed them back, while Mother accepted them with a delighted smile.
She then rolled them up, gave a slight bow, planted a light kiss on Father's cheek, spun on her heel, and exited the office.
"Anything else to say?"
Stunned by their refreshingly straightforward exchange, I stood there dumbfounded until Father glanced at me—the only one left—and gave a subtle hint.
"Uh... no, nothing."
Snapping back to reality at his words, I shook my head and waved my hand.
"Th-thank you, Father."
"Hah, what did I even do? Thank your mother waiting outside."
"Yes, sir."
I bowed and expressed my gratitude a beat late. Father chuckled softly and flicked his left hand, shooing me out.
After a light nod, I picked up the basket I'd set on the floor and quietly left the office.
Mother, who had come out first and was waiting with Emily and Grace, started walking as soon as I emerged.
"Now, let's go see the seamstress."
"Yes."
_
After that cool transaction with Father, our destination was outside the estate, in the commoners' tailoring district at the city center.
Specifically, a shop that usually made uniforms for the family's affiliated knights.
Even though the estate had its own tailors, we went outside because they were high-end specialists who only handled nobles' clothing. Uniforms for butlers and maids had to be commissioned from street tailors who dealt in commoners' garments.
"Hmm."
Mother, strolling lightly down the street with Emily and Grace at her side, suddenly stopped and glared at a shop sign.
A crude, utterly ordinary sign reading [Sir George's Tailor Shop].
"Let's go in."
After confirming the sign, Mother glanced down through the window at the shop interior, then nodded to Emily and gave a gentle command.
Emily bowed slightly at Mother's words and hurried to the door, opening it wide for us.
"Welcome!"
As the door opened, a warm-faced man approached with a booming greeting.
His hands were calloused from years of work, but his face lit up with a broad smile at the sight of Mother, and he beckoned us inside.
"Isn't this Countess Hume? Don't stand out there—come on in!"
"Good to see you, Sir George."
"It's been ages! How have you been?"
"I'm always well. And you?"
"Yes, thanks to Count Hume's grace, we've been doing fine."
"Even empty words are appreciated. How's business lately?"
"The season for new clothes has passed, so it's slow. So slow that flies outnumber customers."
Mother smiled at Sir George's jovial complaints amid the pleasantries, extended her hand to Grace for the bundle of papers, and handed it to him as casually as if offering a stone.
"That's delightful news. I've brought you some new work."
"Wonderful news indeed!"
Sir George accepted the papers politely with both hands, a faint smile on his lips as he examined them carefully.
But halfway through, he furrowed his brows, brought the paper closer to his face, spun it around to show us the writing, and pointed to a spot.
"Countess, have you been recruiting new knights lately?"
"No, and you know it won't be time for that for a while."
"True, but why order 59 sets of uniforms?"
"We're giving new uniforms to the servants. We'll order regularly unless something comes up."
"Haha~ With the count and countess's grace, we'll never starve."
His face blooming with smiles again, Sir George turned back to the papers with a chuckle.
"That's an exaggeration. Can you handle it?"
"I need to see the designs first."
"William."
"Yes."
At Mother's call, I pulled the patterns from the basket and handed them over.
Sir George unrolled them right there, squinting fiercely as he stared them down.
After scrutinizing each one carefully to the end, he finally broke into a satisfied smile.
"Hmm, clean... and simple. Shouldn't be too hard to make. Price is fair... When do you need them by?"
"We'll negotiate that. It's not urgent, so we're flexible to suit you."
"Mm..."
Sir George closed his eyes in thought for a moment, then opened them with confident resolve.
"With this design, I can do six one-piece dresses and three tailcoats per month."
"Make it so. Then, as usual, someone will come once a month?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Mother gestured to Grace.
Grace stepped forward, handed Sir George a gold coin and the two contracts, then stepped back.
"We'll sign the contracts and pay the advance now."
"Mm..."
Sir George examined the contracts slowly.
"Any issues?"
"No, none. Thanks to the count and countess, I always get these big opportunities. I don't know where to put myself."
He laid the contracts side by side on a nearby table, signed each one, then signed again on both stacked together, and offered the pen politely to Mother with both hands.
Mother took the pen, signed identically, set it down, picked up one contract, and passed it to Grace.
"We expect great things, Sir George."
"Yes, I'll do my best."
"Then we'll be off."
The clean, respectful deal typical of long-term partners concluded, and we left the shop.
Sir George followed us out and bowed at a perfect ninety degrees to our backs.
"Safe travels!"
His voice boomed through the street.
Having landed the major contract, Sir George's face shone with unparalleled joy.
__
About a month later, when the first batch arrived at the estate...
A small commotion stirred.
"Hic!"
Tears from the head maid, who was so stoic she was called cold-blooded.
She had entered the estate at fifteen and served nearly thirty years—a veteran among veterans. Seeing her lose control and sob like a child before Mother made me panic, thinking something terrible had happened. I rushed to Mother's side.
"Mother."
"Oh, William. Perfect timing."
"Pardon?"
Mother flashed a playful smile at the sight of me, knelt down, gently held the head maid's hand, and whispered warmly.
"Ester, calm down and see who's here."
"Hic... Y-yes... Sniff... Ugh! Hic... Young Master William...?"
At Mother's words, the head maid lifted her tear-streaked face with effort and peered at me through swollen, puffy eyes.
I didn't know what was going on, but I gave her a soft smile and nodded.
"Yes, Head Maid, it's Wil—"
"Waaah!"
"Eh?"
The moment she realized it was me, she wailed even harder.
"Y-Young Master... Hic-sob...!"
Unable to comprehend, I froze and stared blankly as she kept calling my name, crawling across the floor on all fours to clutch my pant leg.
"Young Master, hic... Waaah!"
"Head Maid? Calm down first..."
"Sniff, sob...! Hic!"
I hurriedly patted her shoulders to soothe her, but her tears wouldn't stop, drawing eyes from everyone around.
With her clinging to my pants and sprawled on the floor, the stares shifted from her to me.
The servants' piercing glares.
"Waaah!"
"So what the heck is going on...?"
I kept patting her back diligently, unable to hide my bewilderment.