IWS Chapter 08

Chapter 08

 

Countess Wellesley de Blackwood was the first designer in high society to introduce luxury brands to the public. Her so-called clothes made by nobles sparked a massive trend, and she was once praised and celebrated as the Empress’s official designer.

That is to say, she once did receive such recognition.

“This is not it!”

Riiip—!

With a hysterical shriek, the Countess furiously tore the fabric apart, then stomped on the scattered pieces before snatching up a needle and thread. With terrifying momentum, she stepped in front of me.

“I’ll have to start over from the beginning! Stand up straight!”

“…Yes. I understand.”

Facing someone who was clearly not in their right mind, I maintained the most submissive posture possible. There’s an old saying: Never provoke a madman or a fool. If I wanted to avoid getting caught up in this madwoman’s tantrum, I had to do my best.

“Ugh…”

“Posture!”

“I-I’m sorry.”

If one were to ask why she was designing clothes on a slave of all subjects, the reason lay in her clumsy needle skills. I couldn’t count how many times her needle had pricked me as she stitched fabric onto the elbow area.

She couldn’t do this to nobles, and commoners wouldn’t tolerate her hysteria long enough to stay. That’s why she needed a slave—someone who wouldn’t resist—to act as a living mannequin. As a sponsor of this high-class slave shop, she ensured she had everything she needed.

‘To her, slaves were nothing more than mannequins—nothing more, nothing less.’

The reality that my status had dropped from human to slave and now to mannequin was a bit disheartening. But if I cried and got the fabric wet, I had no idea what horrors she might unleash upon me.

In the original novel, Lizzie couldn’t hold back her tears. The moisture seeped into the fabric, and as a result, the Countess subjected her to brutal abuse.

‘But I’m in too much pain to even cry…’

Haha. Should I be happy about that?

Telling myself that it was still better than getting stabbed with a knife, I bit my lip hard to keep from collapsing under the growing stings of pain. If I endured just a little longer, an opportunity to win her over might present itself.

“That’s it for the clothes. Now, bring the shoes and hat! Move! Hurry up!”

Impatient as always, the Countess barked orders at the maids. Moving with practiced efficiency, they fetched an array of neatly arranged shoes and hats. That was my cue—my suffering through the sewing ordeal had finally come to an end.

“Haa…! No, no, no! These are all wrong!”

After scrutinizing the items for a moment, the Countess’s expression twisted in disgust. Without hesitation, she began throwing the shoes and hats aside. The maids, flustered, quickly scrambled to retrieve the discarded items, casting uneasy glances at her.

Judging by their reactions, they had already brought out everything available.

‘This is my chance!’

Seizing the moment, I extended a finger and pointed to a pair of yellow shoes one of the maids was holding.

“Um… I think those yellow shoes would look nice with this outfit.”

At my sudden action, everyone’s eyes turned to me, but I walked confidently toward the yellow shoes without minding.

‘Step one in winning over Countess Wellesley de Blackwood: make the choice for her when she’s in a slump!’

After quickly rising to fame as a legendary designer, the Countess had fallen into a burnout-like slump. In truth, she wasn’t rejecting every design because she disliked them—she was simply paralyzed by the fear that the nobility would criticize her choices. Her stress had been eating away at her for some time.

“And if we add this ribbon and this hat, wouldn’t it be nice?”

“Wh-what…? How dare a mere slave—!”

“Wait.”

The moment the flustered maids started to scold me, the Countess raised a hand to stop them.

Everyone froze in shock at her unexpected reaction.

‘I expected this.’

In the original novel, the Countess had subjected Lizzie to endless hysteria—pricking her with needles, cutting her hair under the pretext that it didn’t match the design, slapping her if she so much as shed a tear, and even whipping her.

Then, one day, she suddenly asked Lizzie to pick out her own outfit and accessories.

‘If the items Lizzie chose received criticism, she could think, “Well, what do you expect from a slave” and escape blame for her own failures.’

But if Lizzie’s choices were praised, she was immediately dragged to solitary confinement and punished—without ever knowing why.

“And if we add a parasol to the look… it would be even better.”

That’s why I selected accessories that were just decent—not outstanding enough to receive praise, but not bad enough to draw criticism either.

After all, I wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about fashion or color coordination. I just picked what looked good.

“Hah…”

A chuckle of disbelief escaped from the corner of her mouth.

At the same time, her eyes gleamed with a look that seemed to say, Why didn’t I think of this before?

The Countess covered her slightly parted lips with one hand as she slowly approached me. Then, with a beaming expression unlike anything I had seen before, she grasped my shoulders.

“Can you try combining it in a different way as well?”

Oh no, this wasn’t part of the plan.

I glanced at the hand on my shoulder, momentarily making a troubled expression. If I got too much praise for this, would I end up being thrown into solitary confinement? But I couldn’t think of a plausible excuse to refuse the Countess’s request either.

“…Yes. Of course. Leave it to me.”

I erased the troubled look from my face and answered her as brightly as I could.

Somehow, things were starting to feel a little strange… but it should be fine, right?

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

In this still rigid era, revealing silhouettes or using decorations that stood out too much often led to harsh criticism.

I used that to my advantage by eliminating unnecessary details and embellishments from the clothing. Instead, I focused on silhouettes that accentuated a woman’s figure, and I experimented boldly with materials they had yet to try—silk, velvet, tweed, wool, and more.

“This is truly… utterly bizarre.”

Oh no, did I go too far?

At the Countess’s brief yet pointed remark, my hands, which had been arranging colors, froze. My expression stiffened. Could this be a failed attempt?

“But it’s unique and distinctive. A combination I’ve never seen before.”

“Thank you.”

Wait, what? Was that a success? Why does she always have to be so vague?

“Good. Have these packed exactly as they are. Make sure they’re sent straight to the capital before the deadline.”

“Yes, understood.”

“You, come here.”

The Countess didn’t even bother taking additional measurements. She simply instructed the maids to send everything as is. Would those kinds of clothes really be well received?

I watched as the maids carried the garments away, then walked closer to Countess Wellesley de Blackwood as she gestured for me.

“What is your name?”

“Mary.”

“That’s a dull name. Did your parents give it to you?”

“No. I named myself.”

The unexpected jab left me speechless, but I replied calmly. I had no reason to waste energy getting upset over parents I had never even met.

“Hmm. I see. You may go now. I’ll leave a review stating that today I was satisfied because a sufficiently educated child came.”

“Excuse me, may I ask for one favor?”

I figured we had gotten somewhat close by now, so I cautiously opened my mouth. Was I being too hasty? Fortunately, she looked at me with a gaze that was softer than before.

“My friend made a mistake and was locked in solitary confinement. I’m worried because this friend is physically weak. Could you possibly send me to the same solitary confinement as my friend?”

The Countess’s eyes widened slightly, as if the request was unexpected.

Right. It’s not every day you see a slave asking to be put in solitary confinement. But Michael was a menace to society, so it was better for him to stay locked up. Who knew who he’d beat up next if he were released?

Still, I couldn’t just leave him there unattended either, so I had no choice but to go with him.

“…That is not an unreasonable request. Since your heart is commendable, so I’ll be more generous and have medicine and food prepared for you as well.”

“Thank you! You’ll surely be blessed!”

Not expecting to receive medicine and food as well, I expressed my gratitude with a brightened expression, bowing deeply.

Was she always this generous?

The Countess of Wellesley willingly handed me a small pouch containing medicine, bandages, and food before asking if I needed anything else. I selected a pink ribbon, a small needle, and white thread before expressing my gratitude once again.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thank you for reading! ♡