“Welcome to my humble store, Enchanté.”
TL/N: Enchanté = I’m delighted.
Anje was surprised by how quickly a person’s expression could change. From a sullen face that seemed devoid of will to live, it was now a face full of smiles, as if a light had been turned on.
So surprised was she that she allowed the man who had bowed his waist to kiss her on the back of her hand.
“I am Jean-Pierre, the owner of this humble store. May I be so bold as to ask the name of the mademoiselle who is as pure as a lily?”
“Greetings, Mr. Pierre.”
Aiden interrupted their conversation and pulled Anje towards him.
He had come to the store with Aunt Meg’s recommendation, but unfortunately, he already didn’t like the owner’s attitude.
‘How dare he kiss someone’s hand now…’
He was tempted to leave just like that because of his anger, but there was no other place in this town that could make custom clothes.
He held Anje’s hand, which he had been holding since earlier, even tighter, and placed his other hand on her opposite shoulder as if it were nothing.
“I apologize for the delay in introducing myself. I am Aiden Fitzroy, and this is my wife, Anje.”
“Ah, Sir Aiden Fitzroy. I am aware of your title and honor.”
The brown-haired young man couldn’t hide his embarrassment and fiddled with his collar.
It was pitiful that he was so distracted by a beautiful woman who showed up at his store that he did not notice that the man with her had silver hair and red eyes.
‘This is a big problem. What am I going to do?’
Aiden Fitzroy, his former name Aiden Dilton.
The only grandson of the eccentric Mr. Dilton, who had appeared out of the blue one day with his daughter. There was no one in Leslie who didn’t know his name.
He had been born and raised here, but he had never shown his face to others until he became an adult.
Those who loved gossip whispered that there must be something wrong with Aiden Dilton’s body or mind.
Thanks to the strong rebuke from Mrs. Meg, who often helped with work at their house, such rumors had subsided, but after the death of Mr. Dilton, his whereabouts had been unknown for several years, and gossip was once again rife.
It was said that he had crossed the border, gone on a world tour, joined a pirate band, and so on.
No one in the village could have predicted that he would suddenly reappear as ‘Sir Aiden Fitzroy’.
‘So, if he’s the illegitimate son of the former emperor, does that mean he’s a nobleman now?’
‘Well, he’s ‘Sir’ Aiden Fitzroy. Some people buy knighthoods these days, so it’s not like he’s a nobleman.’
‘Still, envy swirls around the fact that all the land around his farm became his.’
Some people were excited that he seemed to be normal now that he was an adult, and they even considered him as a potential son-in-law.
With a knighthood equivalent to that of a minor nobleman and the wealth of the land, he was a very desirable bachelor.
However, even after returning to his hometown and showing himself to the people, he acted differently.
He didn’t try to mingle with the villagers, and when he met someone, he would exchange only the necessary words curtly and then leave quickly.
‘They say he was a soldier. Maybe he lost his mind on the battlefield…’
‘Shh, if Mrs. Meg hears you, she’ll chase you with a laundry bat again.’
To the villagers, already wary of strangers, Sir Aiden was like oil that couldn’t mix with water, a foreign presence.
Rumors about him soon settled among the villagers as truth, and even children stopped crying when told, ‘The red-eyed man will take you if you keep crying.’
TL/N: NAHHH!! THAT’S FOUL!!
And now, this frightening Aiden Fitzroy was glaring at him with a menacing look.
‘Am I about to depart this world? I haven’t even fully realized my dreams in fashion yet. Mon Dieu, they say geniuses die young.’
TL/N: Mon Dieu: My God! (In French)
Jean couldn’t even think of hiding his stammering attitude and desperately tried to explain his actions.
“I-I-I’m terribly sorry. It’s just… you both looked so young, and you weren’t wearing a ring… I had no idea you were married. If I had known she was your wife, I would never have laid a finger on her!”
In truth, he had been momentarily blinded by the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered, but he used the absence of a ring as an excuse.
This hastily made-up excuse was flimsy but hit the mark for Aiden, who was already sensitive about that issue.
‘Damn ring, I should have brought it sooner.’
Aiden ground his teeth, turning his anger from Jean to himself. He wondered if he had the right to call himself a husband when he couldn’t even provide a ring.
He slowly withdrew his hand from Anje’s shoulder.
“I see. I’m glad you now understand the truth.”
“Yes, I assure you I had no ulterior motives. I was just excited to meet my muse…”
Jean, who had briefly been deflated, regained his energy. Whether she was married or not, her presence in the store had already inspired him greatly.
Designs for dresses, accessories, and hats flooded his mind, making his hands itch to sketch them out.
“Are you here to buy fabric for this madame? Or perhaps you need clothes made? As you’ve heard from the rumors, my store is well-equipped with the latest patterns—”
“We plan to have some clothes tailored. A few comfortable outfits, some outerwear, dresses… and several more items. I’ve heard you’re quite skilled in this area.”
Jean clapped his hands with a bright smile.
“Très bien! I’m honored that you trust my skills.”
TL/N: Très bien!: Very good! (in French)
As a lover of fashion, he felt stifled being born in such a rural place, unable to fully utilize his sense of style.
What good was it to pour all his money into opening a fabric store if most customers only bought materials like fabric or ribbons and the only bespoke orders were from old bachelors who didn’t care about fashion and only wanted simple trousers and shirts?
His worries about becoming a true designer vanished before this new customer.
“Do you have a specific price range in mind?”
“Don’t worry about the price. Just use good fabric to make them.”
“Oui, Monsieur. Good fabrics, I have plenty! Just give me a moment.”
TL/N: Oui: Yes (in French)
Jean, thrilled by the extravagant request, almost seemed ready to dance as he headed behind the counter. Price was no object, so it was time to bring out his hidden treasures.
By now, any wariness or fear of Aiden Fitzroy had long vanished from Jean’s mind. Aiden was just a generous and discerning customer.
“Wait, clothes for me?”
Anje was so shocked by Aiden calling her his “wife” earlier that she had been in a daze until now. She shook off Aiden’s hand, which she was still holding, and tried to interject into their conversation to decline the excessive generosity.
“No, really, the clothes I have now are more than enough.”
Planning to run away today, she thought it would be too much to have new clothes made and then disappear after making Aiden spend a lot of money. Anje felt overwhelmed with guilt.
“Nonsense. The ones you have at home were made a long time ago. Since we’re here, please tell him everything you need. I’m not well-versed in women’s fashion.”
“Honestly, it’s fine. You should get a suit instead—”
“Madame, please take a look.”
Jean, now back with an armful of fabric, spread them out on the counter.
“Considering your complexion, I think this light yellow and light green would suit you. No, red would look great too. And white! My goodness, there’s no color you don’t look good in.”
Momentarily forgetting the situation due to the flattering compliments, Anje preened and flicked back her loose hair with a touch of haughtiness.
“Of course, any color suits my complexion well.”
“Do you have any specific designs in mind?”
Anje, serious about fashion, naturally replied, “I prefer dresses that look good without a corset. Something more classical, like an Empire dress rather than a flounced dress… Oh, no. Sir Aiden, I really don’t need any clothes. I don’t need any!”
Who would have thought she would one day refuse a custom dress? Aiden, seemingly sharing the sentiment, looked at her refusal with an incredulous expression.
“I know you love clothes, so there’s no need to be so modest. A few outfits are fine.”
Unlike the pale Anje, Jean’s face was glowing with excitement.
“Ooh la la, Madame! You’re so lucky to have such a generous husband. Why not buy everything while you’re at it? Do you need stockings? I recently got some silk ones from the capital.”
“We’ll take those too.”
“How about a new, stiff apron?”
“That sounds good.”
“Wait, Sir Aiden!”
Anje tried to stop Aiden, but she couldn’t halt his and Jean’s momentum. Watching Aiden cheerfully pay the advance bill that Jean handed him, Anje felt like crying.
Buying clothes but not feeling happy about it was a first for her.
“I’m really fine… I don’t need any clothes…”
Both Aiden and Jean misinterpreted her repeated refusals as the modesty of a wife too humble to accept gifts, making Anje feel unbearably guilty.
Calling Anje Glasster frugal would be a joke, something even a passing street dog in the capital would laugh at.
* * * *
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