Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Atelier Liberatio
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I started my day at the workshop by putting up the sign at the entrance.
Up until now, I hadn't needed one since I was working with the knight order and business partners, but from here on out, I'd be dealing with the general public.
I'd suddenly remembered it when we placed the ad, and I'd been worried I wouldn't get it in time, but luckily, it arrived right on schedule with my morning commute.
"Raise the right side just a bit higher."
"Like this?"
"Yeah, nail it in place like that."
"Got it!"
"Sir William, what's this first thing in the morning?"
"Putting up a sign."
As I gave instructions to the carpenter and watched him work, Lady Elizabeth, who was just stepping down from her carriage, approached with a furrowed brow.
"A sign? Did our workshop even have a name?"
"Nope, it didn't."
"Then what's this?"
"I thought of it when we placed the ad. Not bad, right?"
"Sigh... From now on, decide important stuff like this more seriously."
"Sure."
Lady Elizabeth let out a deep sigh, shot me a slight glare, and brushed it off with a light remark.
The problem wasn't the casual decision—the name itself was pretty good.
"By the way, looking closer, it's in ancient imperial script?"
"Yeah, it has a more refined feel."
"We should've used ancient imperial for 'Atelier' too, then."
"Workshop sounds cooler as Atelier."
"Does it?"
"Atelier's like the cradle of artists and creators."
"Hmm, I see."
The lady wrinkled her brow slightly, as if she didn't quite get it, and stared at the sign.
No wonder she didn't understand.
Truth be told, it was because the games I loved in my past life had 'Atelier' in the title, and since it matched the meaning of workshop, I slapped it on.
"Sir William, have you seen the ad that ran?"
As I blankly watched the carpenter hammer away, the lady poked my side with her elbow and asked.
"Yeah, it turned out great."
"Right? It should definitely draw attention, but isn't it a bit vague?"
"Ah, I get it. You mean people won't know what we're advertising?"
"Exactly."
"Not yet, anyway."
The ad we ran this time looked so much like a Caterina pictorial at first glance that it barely seemed related to underwear.
That's because we were focusing on the shop rather than the underwear itself right now.
The first ad was like shouting out a technique name.
It was meant to grab everyone's attention by announcing I was about to do something awesome—the real technique reveal would come in the next ad.
Once we've solidly hooked their interest, we drop the actual underwear ad.
Whether for good reasons or bad, people will flock in.
"Don't worry, we'll drop the real bomb in the next ad. So make sure to secure plenty of fabric and practice up."
"Already on it."
_
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The season arrived when every lady plunged into deep contemplation.
It started with the Founding Day commemoration in mid-next-month, followed one after another by His Majesty the Emperor's birthday, then the Crown Prince's birthday.
On top of that, there were the princesses' birthdays and the saint's holy festival in between, turning autumn into a hellish gauntlet of banquets for the ladies—a prison of corsets and petticoats, a period of torment.
It might sound ridiculous to call it torment over mere clothes, but remembering the rib that cracked from a corset at the Crown Prince's birthday still made my side ache phantom pains.
I'd sworn never to go through that horror again, but now, my resolve rang hollow as the time came to select dresses and corsets for the banquet hell.
Like a cow being led to slaughter, I waited for Mother to say we should visit the tailor.
"Haa..."
Breaching etiquette, a sigh slipped out.
I moistened my lips with tea, subtly turning my head to glance at the other ladies gathered under the guise of tea time, all avoiding their mothers.
Just last week, they'd chattered like sparrows; now, they were silent as if in church.
Smiles on their lips, but their eyes brimmed with gloom—they all seemed to share my thoughts.
Knowing I wasn't the only cow awaiting the knife felt like an immense relief.
"Everyone, did you see that thing this morning?"
As the somber mood dragged on, Lady Florence couldn't bear it and forced a bright voice to toss out a topic.
I had no idea what "that thing" from morning was, but the other ladies rolled their eyes briefly before realization dawned, their eyebrows twitching as they leaned forward.
"You mean the one in the newspaper?"
"Yes! That's it. I was so shocked when I saw it this morning—it's still lingering in my head."
"No way! I'm not the only one?"
"Even in the picture, it was so vibrant, like being in the forest."
"Exactly."
Everyone but me seemed to know "that thing."
Normally, ignorance is bliss—stay quiet and unnoticed—but curiosity burned: what could "that thing" be to lift these gloomy ladies into such excitement?
"A moniker of fairy that suits her perfectly..."
"Um..."
Awkward and sheepish, I timidly raised my hand, drawing all eyes to me.
"What is 'that thing'? Did something happen?"
"Oh my, Lady Lavinia hasn't seen the newspaper yet?"
"Embarrassingly... I only read half due to lack of time."
"Oh dear!"
"You had to see that one!"
"Of all places, it's at the back—such tragedy...!"
I'd braced for mocking sneers like "You don't even know that?", but the ladies genuinely sighed in pity, frowning sympathetically.
"I-is that so?"
"Yes, it is."
"Lady Lavinia, you should still... No, how about we just explain it?"
"Good idea."
It was bewildering—they'd never shown such unguarded emotion before.
A suspicion crept in: was this some new bullying I was unaware of?
"No, describing it with mere words would tarnish its beauty. Best to see it yourself. Annie? Fetch the newspaper?"
Lady Florence, who had listened quietly, calmed the excited ladies and instructed her waiting maid to bring the paper.
The maid nodded, left the room, and soon returned at a brisk trot, newspaper clutched to her chest, handing it to Lady Florence.
"Here you are."
"Thanks, back to your post."
Lady Florence took the paper, flipped it over, and without turning pages, held it out to me.
"Ignore everything else—check the very last page."
"Y-yes... Thank you."
I followed her words and looked at the back page.
There, a beautiful elf maiden enjoying quiet contemplation amid nature took up half the page.
"Wow..."
"Hee hee... That was my reaction too at first."
Now their reactions made sense. A pure, unfeigned gasp of admiration escaped me.
Even constrained by black-and-white on cheap paper, the elf's beauty shone undimmed.
Innocent yet mature—where on earth did they find such an elf?
"...?"
Enrapt by the elf's allure, ignoring the chatter around me as I stared blankly, a sudden sense of familiarity hit me.
I'd rarely encountered elves before, yet this one felt oddly familiar, like we'd met.
[The Right to Be Comfortably Beautiful]
[Atelier Liberatio]
I checked the text below the image, hoping for a spark of recognition, but nothing clicked.
Far from a flash, the word "liberatio" used ancient imperial, yet "Atelier" stuck to modern imperial, which irked me.
"Hmm..."
"Lady Lavinia, something wrong?"
"No, not that, but... doesn't this elf look familiar?"
"An elf? Would we even encounter elves?"
"We wouldn't, right?"
"Ah!"
As everyone shook their heads claiming it was their first time, Lady Jane, who had been peering piercingly at the image, let out a short cry of realization, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Isn't this elf the one who works with Count Hume's second son?"
"Count Hume...? Ah! William Henry Howard!"
"The corset hater?"
"Ah! That knight who said kinda pervy but relatable stuff, right?"
"Yes! So what has he been up to lately?"
"If what my acquaintance said is true, he's supplying new underwear to the imperial knight order—for the female knights."
"Underwear?"
"Yes."
"......"
The tea room's lively atmosphere extinguished like a candle in the wind, settling into calm in the blink of an eye.
The ladies, as if by prior agreement, stared at the newspaper.
I too shifted my gaze to the elf's upper body in the image.
Firmly gathered bust.
A natural, gentle waist curve.
No trace of corset boning through the tight dress, nor visible at the deeply plunging neckline.
Elf.
Corset hater.
New underwear.
Ad copy.
Atelier.
The seemingly scattered pieces clicked together, forming a grand picture.
"!"
With just under a month and two weeks until Founding Day, what Sir William the corset hater was scheming—it dawned on nearly every lady here simultaneously.
"We've had quite enough tea time by now, haven't we?"
"Hee hee~ Indeed, time for everyone to head back?"
"Ahem! Seems so. It was a delightful time as always."
We hadn't even finished one cup, but every lady unanimously willed the tea time to end.
"Truly an enlightening gathering."
And I was among them.