Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: The Frenzy at the Atelier
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"Still not many letters coming in, huh."
"Isn't fewer actually better?"
"Nah, these are from around the capital, so it's about what I expected. The news won't spread across the whole empire until tonight, so Monday's when the real reactions start."
"Then I guess we can take it easy next week?"
"Yeah."
By Friday, the letters that arrived at the shop numbered a grand total of five.
And excluding the simple inquiries, filtering down to ones with genuine intent to commission brought it to exactly three—just as anticipated. Things were unfolding precisely as planned.
Or so I thought.
"Um, ladies? You're a bit too close."
"Could you please not touch the fourth leg?"
After a very quiet and peaceful weekend, come Monday, what I witnessed was a swarm of women gathered around the shop, with my employees trapped and unable to move amid them.
"...What the hell?"
Caterina, who had been pushing back against the crowd with a troubled expression, locked eyes with me and her face lit up. She raised her hand high and waved it frantically, shouting loudly.
"Ah! Sir William! Good morning~!"
"Ah, damn it..."
It was blatant attention-grabbing, plain as day.
"William?"
"Where?"
The effect was tremendous. Dozens of women, lured by the name "William," whipped their heads around in unison, searching for me.
"Ah! There he is!"
One woman cried out brightly, pointing right at me, and the ladies turned their blazing eyes in that direction.
Dozens of pairs of eyes, filled with frenzy and urgency, fixed on me—it was like a scene straight out of a horror movie, sending chills down my spine and making it hard to breathe.
"......"
"......"
A split-second silence.
I frantically gestured to Emily behind me, signaling her to hide behind my back quickly.
Slim chance or not, they might rough up a commoner like Emily. And even if not, getting caught in that mob without coming out unscathed seemed unlikely.
"Sir William!"
"We have questions!"
As Emily clung tightly to my back, grabbing my clothes, the ladies broke their silence and surged toward us.
"Everyone, calm down and line up orderly...!"
"Sir William, are you making undergarments this time?"
"Or is it dresses?"
"Is it the undergarments supplied to the knight orders?"
"What kind of clothes are you making, exactly?"
"I'll answer everything, so please, one at a time...!"
"If not clothes, then cosmetics?"
"Can we do it today?"
"What's that outfit on the servant next to you?"
"Can we become as beautiful as that elf lady over there?"
"Ugh...! Please, everyone, calm down!"
Just an inch away.
Pressing in so close their bodies nearly touched, the women bombarded me with questions like baby birds chirping at their mother, glaring as they ignored whatever I said and fired off what they wanted to ask.
What do I do...
No signs of calming down.
"At least give us some answer..."
Just as the focus started fading from the women's eyes.
- Clap! Clap! Clap!
A light clapping sound pierced my ears sharply.
Mixed with a faint, stimulating mana that demanded attention, everyone fell obediently silent as if entranced, turning their heads toward the source of the claps.
"What are you all doing?"
There stood Lady Elizabeth, arms crossed, glaring at us with narrowed eyes and a face full of displeasure.
"You're not street merchants—what's this behavior? Don't lose the dignity that comes with blue blood, no matter where or when."
Her icy voice echoed down the street.
"Ah..."
"Ohoho..."
Struck by the princess's sharp rebuke, the excited women calmed instantly, letting out awkward laughs.
The lady who seemed the highest-ranked among them bowed her head slightly as representative.
"Sorry, we got a bit too excited."
"It's fine. Everyone makes mistakes."
"Thank you."
With the women now as docile as lambs, the princess softened her expression into a kind smile.
"We want to hear all your stories as quickly as possible, but as you can see, the atelier isn't that big. Letting some in first means others wait on the street, and we can't chat with you out there—so we need time to prepare a solution."
"I see."
"We lacked consideration."
A bit late, but shame washed over them, and the women retreated a step each, clearing a path to the atelier.
"Thank you for understanding. We'll find a way to talk with you all as soon as possible, so please wait just a moment."
_
"Everyone's here?"
Making my way somehow into the atelier, I first checked that all the employees were present.
"Yes, you were the last to come in."
"Good."
Lady Fanny, who had been waiting in the workshop, nodded and confirmed we were last.
"Haa..."
I rubbed my chest and let out a sigh of relief.
That scared me pretty bad.
I hadn't expected such an intense reaction, and I'd underestimated the nobility's information network.
The ad I'd placed had nothing but the shop name.
So I figured only someone obsessively tracking my every move would pay close attention—but no.
I glanced out the window.
The swarm of ladies and their attendants outside felt intimidating.
"How many are out there now?"
"About fifty when we came in."
"Fifty..."
My vision swam.
Five letters, but fifty people.
Including maids and servants, easily over a hundred.
Can't leave a hundred on the street, so we need to secure seating fast.
Renting a venue on the spot might be tough, but positively, it's morning.
Tea times are usually afternoon, so if we hurry, we can manage.
"Herbert!"
"Yes."
"Go book a coffee house right now. Anywhere, as long as it seats at least a hundred."
"Understood."
Leaving the booking to Herbert, I turned to Caterina.
"Elizabeth, do we have a dress for Caterina to wear right now?"
"There's a spare in the carriage."
"Then get it ready to change her anytime."
"Got it."
"Emily, where are the mannequins and the undergarments Caterina wore?"
"All in the warehouse."
"Grab them."
"Yes."
Having Elizabeth and Emily prepare to dress Caterina, I beckoned Adelaide and Fanny over.
"Girdle—how long to make one?"
"If we mobilize all the cutters, one per day."
"Okay."
One a day, five a week excluding weekends.
Not bad.
"Alright, as soon as we're ready, Adelaide and Caterina come with me to explain. Everyone else waits here. Got it?"
"Yes."
_
"Thank you all for waiting."
Gathering everyone in the somehow-secured coffee house, Caterina and I stepped forward.
- Clap clap clap!
Light applause greeted our greeting.
Counting to three in my head, the clapping died down, and the women watched me intently, waiting for my words.
"You all must have tons of questions, but please hold them until after my explanation. If you understand, nod."
The women nodded, and I continued with a gentle smile.
"Many of you saw the ad and can't quite grasp what we're doing—especially 'the right to be comfortably beautiful.'
Those who've followed me closely will remember my interview three months ago, where I railed against corsets. This is the extension of that."
The women stirred slightly.
Some nodded knowingly, as if to say 'knew it'; others frowned with complex expressions, expectations only partly met.
I paused briefly, letting them process, then spoke again.
"In the last two months, we've created new undergarments to replace corsets: the 'girdle' and 'brassiere.'
To be honest, they won't give you a wasp or ant waist like corsets. They're weaker at shaping the figure. But compared to corsets, our undergarments excel in freedom of movement."
I stepped beside Caterina, set down the pouch at my waist, and tapped her shoulder.
Caterina bent only at the waist—legs straight—to pick up the pouch from the floor.
"Heh?!"
"Gasp!"
The women erupted in cheers and gasps at the impossible corseted maneuver of bending to pick something up.
"Without whalebone or rigid steel stays, it shapes your figure while allowing free movement."
"Don't lie!"
"Elves have slim waists anyway—probably not wearing any undergarments, right?"
"Yeah, it's suspicious now."
Shocked by the motion, a few women jumped up, doubting the undergarments' existence.
I nodded at each comment, then smiled confidently.
"After my explanation, my colleague Caterina will demonstrate if she's wearing them and how effective they are."
"She could slip them on midway, though?"
"That's a fair suspicion. So Caterina won't move a single step from here. Once I finish and leave, inspect as much as you like."
"......"
The doubting women sat back down with sullen looks.
"To continue: the brassiere supports the bust, the girdle from waist to hips. We focused on natural, smooth curves from bust to hips rather than thin waists, so we recommend skipping petticoats."
After explaining the basic concept and purpose, I paused.
Then, with a slightly gloomy expression, I looked down at the floor.
"But our undergarments have one issue."
"What is it? What's the problem?"
I held up five fingers, speaking in a dejected, apologetic tone.
"We can only take five orders per week."
The women tilted their heads, frowning.
It was a normal—no, generous—number.
But maintaining my glum face, I continued.
"In principle, first-come-first-served, but we have no way to know who arrived first."
"So, what then?"
"We're truly, deeply sorry."
I beckoned Emily from the back.
She approached with a small box and stack of papers.
"We'll decide the first five orders by lottery."
"!!"
The women gaped like rabbits, speechless.
Especially the highborn ones—their reactions were intense.
Makes sense.
Random selection over status or money? Unheard of.
Suppressing a grin, I pointed at Emily.
"If you'd like to participate, get a number ticket from this maid. We'll start from the tables up front."