Chapter 246
Chapter 246
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 246
Chapter Title: What a Murderous Heat...! (2)
Among the most perfect shapes is the circle, among the most perfect numbers is 42, and among the most perfect materials is metal.
And among the most perfect outfits is the maid uniform.
It could be called the sacred attire bestowed by the gods themselves.
However, even such a maid uniform has its limits. The outfit itself is perfect, but the person wearing it isn't.
Humans suffer in the heat, and because we're human, we can't stubbornly cling to the classic Victorian style.
Some might accuse the outfit itself of being imperfect, but that doesn't hold water when it comes to maid uniforms.
The reason is simple.
Because I say so.
Religions say God's will is beyond human comprehension, so can't I claim the value of maid uniforms is beyond human grasp?
In any case, due to the physical limitations of the human body, maid uniforms come in various variations.
As a Victorian-style fundamentalist, I'm deeply dissatisfied, but I can't deny that clothes are meant to be worn by people, so they must suit the wearer.
Seeing Emily struggle like this, it's time for me to step away from fundamentalism and embrace a more human-centered approach—at least this once.
If Emily, who mostly works indoors, is this bad off, the maids handling odd jobs must have it even worse.
Of course, Emily has the burden of always dressing fully by the book in front of nobles or guests, but the bottom line is both are tough.
So, I loaded up on snacks and headed home to hear what the maids had to say.
Feed them first, then the answers flow freely.
"Do the maids like cake and chocolate?"
"They go crazy for it. A maid who brings back cookies outranks even the head maid."
"Good."
Well, it wouldn't matter if they didn't. I'd bought every kind just in case.
"Emily, could you call the maids over? I'll set everything up."
"Yes."
Something's bound to stick.
_
The maids, led in by Emily, scurried into the drawing room. Spotting the mountain of snacks on the table and me sitting in front of it, they blinked in unison and tilted their heads.
"Young Master, do you have guests coming for dinner tonight?"
"Does the Young Master even have guests? Oh, that pretty young lady from before?"
"A woman at this hour? But the big Young Master—no, Lord of the Frontier County—is home today."
"Does that matter? The previous Lord and the Dowager Lady were passionate even with kids around."
"Jessie, you idiot, they're married."
"Oh!"
"Heh..."
I have no idea how my image got twisted over the past few months, but these maids were professional around my brother and mother—yet around me, they turned into chatty neighborhood gossips.
I like that they feel at ease with me, but why does their fondness seem to have spiked because of Elizabeth?
Did she bribe them behind my back?
No, the maids here serve my brother no matter what I do, so no need for that.
Guess it's just because she's pretty.
Beauties mysteriously boost affection just by existing.
"I called you because I have questions, so cut the chit-chat and sit down."
"Yes~"
I gestured toward the five chairs lined up across the table.
The maids replied lightly, trotted over, and plopped down.
"Eat the snacks freely, and answer casually while you munch."
"If the Young Master offers, we won't hold back."
"Go ahead."
With permission granted, hands swarmed the cookie plates like seagulls on scraps.
They each grabbed one, took dainty little nibbles, and worked the crumbs into their mouths.
I waited until they'd polished off their first pieces. Once the eldest, Catherine, finished hers, I shifted in my seat and spoke up.
"It's hot these days, right?"
"Yes."
I'd asked looking at Catherine, but Jessie—lip-smacking beside her—blurted it out.
Wondering if it was just her, I checked the others. They all nodded in agreement.
"Hmm~ As expected..."
If they answer instantly without even glancing around, it must really be brutal.
"We're lucky working for nobles—good pay, no scorching fieldwork."
"Someone else having it worse doesn't make your pain vanish. Everyone has their own struggles."
"Thank you for understanding."
Catherine added some face-saving words for our family, but it didn't change the fact that it sucked.
"It hit me recently: in summer, maid uniforms are way hotter than I thought. So I wanted to hear from you all who actually wear them."
"Ah..."
A sigh slipped from Catherine's lips as the maids exchanged quick glances.
They had plenty to say but seemed unsure if they should.
I get it.
I'm the one who designed the uniforms and pushed for them hard. Saying "there's a problem" feels like bad form.
"I didn't realize, but Emily told me. She said we might need a slight summer tweak."
Sorry, Emily, but I borrowed your name.
"?"
Emily looked startled at the sudden mention but quickly composed herself with a nod.
Aside from Mother and Father, she's one of the few who can scold me outright without issue—and one I always forgive anyway.
"Ah~"
The maids, who'd briefly suspected a test, relaxed with relieved fidgeting at their aprons.
"Any uncomfortable parts? If so, what?"
"Um..."
The maids let out short groans.
Some fiddled with their hems, others rolled their eyes upward, gathering thoughts.
"For summer uniforms, please change the fabric to something breathable."
"Silk's fine for fabric, isn't it?"
"It's too thick, designed for fall and winter. No airflow, traps moisture and heat inside."
"Right, linen for summer would feel cooler."
"If not, at least make sleeves roll-up friendly. They're too fitted—no ventilation, hard to hike up."
"Fabric and fit..."
Ventilation was the culprit, as expected.
Thick, wide fabric trapped heat and humidity.
"You mentioned the upper body. What about skirts?"
"Skirts are uncomfortable too, but hiking them up isn't proper..."
"Ah! Could you lower the collar? Neck and arms all wrapped up—sweat pools in the chest."
"Ahem..."
Sleeves, collar, and skirts—the problem areas.
Nothing out of left field.
"Anything else?"
"Um... Not sure about the estate maids' takes."
"I'll check that. Don't worry about it."
"Then no."
"Got it... Alright."
I jotted their feedback in my notebook.
Pocketed it, then stood.
"Take as many snacks as you want—share among yourselves, with other staff, whatever."
"Thank you."
I left the rest for them and exited the drawing room.
_
After hearing from the townhouse maids, I wrote to Mother asking about the estate ones.
I figured it'd take days—distance, plus complex rotations with so many staff.
"Young Master, a reply from the Dowager Lady."
"Quick."
It arrived just two days after I sent mine.
Mother, as expected.
Even with my brother inheriting the title this summer and his wife becoming lady of the house, no one matched Mother's sway over the staff.
"Hmm~ Same as here."
The letter echoed the townhouse feedback.
The only difference: a minority request for sheer hair caps.
Not a bad idea. I'd try it after fixing dress ventilation.
Sheer is justice, after all.
In summary, the maids unanimously wanted fabric and style tweaks.
Solid points both.
But linen? Hard pass for fabric.
Maids do manual labor plus service and hospitality—a tricky job requiring invisible duties like maintaining dignity and a positive image.
Fine for undergarments, but linen outerwear? Tongues would wag.
Plus, linen summer uniforms would mean three types: cotton for chores, silk for service, linen for summer.
Too much...
Sheer silk or cotton? Double the maintenance hassle.
Sheer stuff is a nightmare to wash.
More types mean more headaches, so better to tweak the existing uniforms for better airflow without changing fabrics.
Time to test quick mods.
I pulled out spare uniforms and sewing tools, glancing at Emily.
"Emily, mind being my mannequin?"
"Yes."