Chapter 238
Chapter 238
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 238
Chapter Title: The Tailors' Scrutiny
"Phew..."
Somehow enduring the physically prickling glares, I let out a deep breath and gently rubbed my solar plexus while forcing a smile that bordered on outright fabrication as I looked at the Crown Princess.
"Um, Your Highness, could you please explain what's going on here right now?"
"You need to explain your design to them, and wouldn't it be most effective if the person who came up with the idea does it himself?"
"......"
"Sister..."
The thought that I was done for crossed my mind, and Elizabeth and I both stared at the Crown Princess with uneasy eyes.
I understood the intention.
But using this now would spell disaster.
This was something you could only do with people of a certain caliber, not like throwing a fledgling chick into the middle of a pack of veterans like this.
"......"
Just look at the fury and irritation brimming in those elders' eyes right now.
They weren't even mid-level; bringing in a total newbie like this had them more than a little pissed off.
"Oh man..."
How the hell was I supposed to fix this...
I needed to calm their hostility first before any conversation could even start, but that seemed utterly impossible.
"Even Your Highness must have had some reason for making this decision, but we know absolutely nothing about this young man."
"I understand that. Asking anyone to listen to someone whose face and name they don't even know would naturally raise questions."
"We're grateful for your understanding."
"However, it's also true that this man's opinion could resolve our dilemma."
"Hmm..."
As the atmosphere grew icy, the Crown Princess intervened with a slight attempt at mediation, but the elders' reactions remained lukewarm at best.
The fact that they were responding like this even to Her Highness was practically a fierce protest.
"So how about we take some time for verification? You are all excellent tailors, so you must have ways to quickly discern true talent."
Knowing this, Her Highness offered the elders a proposal with an awkward smile.
The elders, who had expected Her Highness to push through regardless, showed surprise and exchanged glances.
Then, the one who seemed to be the representative stepped forward toward me and spoke.
"Even if it's someone brought by Your Highness, we have no intention of letting this slide easily. Is that alright with you?"
"Of course. As long as you don't deliberately belittle him, he will undoubtedly win you over."
"I see."
The elders' faces, which had shown traces of hesitation, now began to reveal a glint of 'You've walked right into it.'
"......"
I wished the Crown Princess would just shut up, but she'd already said what couldn't be unsaid, so closing her mouth now was pointless.
"Young man, do you know who I am?"
With Her Highness's permission, the elder scanned me up and down, his eyes appraising, as he spoke.
It would have been great if I could confidently say I knew, but since I'd only studied from books, I was clueless about the industry's inner workings.
All I knew was that the imperial tailors were amazing and that I had a slight acquaintance with the seamstress guildmaster—that was it.
So, I bowed my head with a dejected expression, as if ashamed.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not very familiar with other tailors."
"Well, you don't seem to mingle much with folks in this circle, so that makes sense."
"My apologies."
Nodding as if to say 'just as I thought,' the elder smirked and glanced briefly at Elizabeth.
"A man who travels with Princess Victoria must be none other than Howard Earl, second son of the Hume March. I've heard the rumors."
"I consider it unworthy fame, but knowing that esteemed masters like yourselves are aware leaves me at a loss."
"Unworthy, you say... Excessive humility isn't always a virtue. Catching the Emperor's eye is no small feat in itself."
Not affirming or denying, just smiling, I prompted the elder to narrow his eyes and direct a sharp gaze at me.
"But whether that fame is genuine or somewhat inflated remains questionable. You rose to prominence awfully quickly."
From my perspective, who'd suffered through all sorts of hardships for the atelier, this felt a bit unfair.
"You must think my fame and achievements rode on the imperial coattails."
"You might feel wronged, but regrettably, that's how it appears."
But that was only from my viewpoint, knowing all the circumstances.
In reality, it was desperate preemptive strikes to please His Majesty, tearful full-body sales pitches to subhumans and humans alike.
From an outsider's view, one step removed, I looked no more and no less than a rotten noble reeking of corruption.
I'd been getting work from His Majesty even before the atelier, worked with the princess from the start, and this guy kept racking up hits unnaturally—who wouldn't smell something fishy? If not, they'd have flowers in their head.
And it was undeniable that I'd received some privileges.
"I fully understand that suspicion. If I were in your position, I'd harbor the same doubts."
Thus, it was normal to suspect my fame and actions; abnormal not to.
"Glad to see you're a reasonable young man."
Even I thought I reeked, so I kept a thoroughly low profile and nodded, causing the elder to soften his attitude slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"To cut to the chase, let me see your hands."
"Yes."
At the elder's gesture beckoning my hands, I extended both without hesitation.
"Hmm..."
Adjusting the spectacles perched precariously on his nose bridge and letting out a small groan, the elder grasped my hands—rough and coarse, callused in places from years of work.
Fingers bearing the clear marks of time.
I thought my own calluses from needles and pens were pretty solid, but compared to his, they were adorable.
"I'm truly sorry, but how many years have you held fabric, master?"
"Let's see, I never counted precisely, but close to fifty years, I suppose. Started as an apprentice at ten."
"Fifty..."
Even including my childhood practice, it was ten times mine—an unimaginable span.
"And you've handled the needle quite a bit yourself."
As I marveled at his experience, the elder, palpating my hands to confirm something, released them with a pleased smile and patted my shoulder.
"It's nothing compared to you, sir."
"Nothing? A noble who looks barely out of his teens with calluses like these—'nothing' says you're no ordinary madman."
"I was able to do it thanks to learning in a more comfortable environment than most."
"Hah! Funny talk, Earl. People can lie with words, but hands don't lie."
At my response, the elder burst into hearty laughter and raised his own hand.
"It took me three years after finally earning my apprenticeship badge at fifteen to get a callus on this index finger—earned touching nothing but needle and cloth, minus time for eating and sleeping."
Pausing, he made a bitter face, wiggling his index finger and staring blankly into space with misty eyes.
"I know better than anyone how grueling and hellish that time was."
"It was enjoyable for me, in its own way."
"If you enjoyed those boring, grueling moments, that makes you even more terrifying and insane. Even knights who love swords and mages who adore magic hate practice and training."
The elder's gaze shifted slightly to Elizabeth.
"And your companion's no ordinary one either."
"Elizabeth, and the other staff not here, are all too good for me."
"Ha ha, that much I can believe without humility."
With a pleasant laugh, the elder turned to his colleagues.
"From what I see, this fellow's no total hack. Might be worth hearing him out. What do you all think?"
The elders gauged each other's moods and expressions before nodding reluctantly.
"Well, even if he looks like a pretty boy gigolo, he shows some promise..."
"If Lord Walks thinks so, we'll at least hear him out."
The general vibe was they'd listen, at least.
But one of the few female elder tailors stepped forward, arms crossed, eyeing Elizabeth and me with displeasure.
"Well, he doesn't seem like a total flake like the others say, but I still think deciding too hastily is risky. What if I oppose?"
"Unfortunately, we'd have to kick you out."
"Hah, you rotten bastard... You had the answer ready—why even ask?"
"Tsk tsk. Aren't you curious too, what outlandish solution this kid brought?"
"Well, yeah."
"Then you'll keep opposing?"
"Tch, do as you like."
With a sulky expression, she retreated, huffing. The representative elder turned back to us and extended his right hand to me.
"I'm Steven Martin Walks, Marquis and imperial tailor working in the palace thanks to my craft."
"William Henry Howard, Howard Earl. Pleased to meet you."
In response to Marquis Walks' introduction, I shook his hand lightly and gave my own.
After exchanging grips and glances for a few seconds, we released as if by prior agreement.
Then, placing a hand on my forearm and standing shoulder-to-shoulder, Marquis Walks lightly tugged my arm toward the table where the heated debate had raged moments before.
"Alright then, take a seat. Let's hear what nonsense this young one's brought."
"Yes, understood."