* * *
A few days later.
The boutique manager visited the mansion.
According to Howard, the boutique that usually handled my clothes was fully booked, so he contacted the next best place.
I immediately called Locke into the drawing room.
Then, I entrusted his clothing to the manager, telling him to make them of the highest quality and that the cost did not matter.
The manager bowed repeatedly to me in gratitude and then beckoned to Locke, who was standing stiffly by the door, to come over.
I secretly raised an eyebrow at that gesture.
“You’ve met a good master and are living in luxury. Have you ever had custom clothes made before?”
“I have not.”
The manager walked over to Locke and, without a word, flipped up the clothes he was wearing.
Locke’s well-defined abs were revealed underneath.
I flinched and looked away, only to happen to see a measuring tape sticking out of the manager’s bag, which had been left open.
I looked back at the manager.
Without even taking out the measuring tape, he was estimating Locke’s measurements just by eye and recording them in a notebook.
Because my body grew thinner by the day, I had clothes made once every two months.
Every time that happened, the staff would painstakingly measure my body with a tape and record it.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head.
Even though I was watching, the manager scolded Locke, saying that since he was tall, he should bend down so the manager wouldn’t have to stand on his tiptoes.
He felt Locke’s thighs here and there and let out a subtle laugh, making comments that bordered on sexual harassment, saying he thought “these were legs, too.”
Measurement methods could differ from manager to manager.
However, I could not overlook him looking down on a customer—especially treating my friend so carelessly.
Before being my friend, Locke was a servant of the Count’s family, and for the manager to act like that while I, the client, was watching with my eyes wide open was no different from insulting me.
Having no reason to endure it any longer, my expression twisted.
Then, when the manager said he would just make the clothes himself since Locke wouldn’t know the trendy styles anyway, I stroked my chin and spoke in a low voice.
“Still, everyone has their own taste. Wouldn’t it be better to show him a catalog or fabric samples?”
“Those things are for people who have had clothes made a few times. This guy is completely illiterate when it comes to this. Or would you like to choose for him, Young Master?”
I beckoned the manager to come in front of me.
I was someone who didn’t even order the lowest-ranking servants around with hand gestures, but I felt no need to be considerate of the feelings of someone who ignored my own person.
I took out only three copper coins from the money bag I had brought to pay him and threw them onto the table.
The manager made a troubled face, seemingly not understanding my intention.
“……Young Master. I’m sorry, but our boutique’s outfits are at least 6 gold and 5 copper coins per person. Furthermore, since you ordered the highest quality, you should pay about 6 more gold coins. This isn’t even enough for the price of a single sleeve.”
I replied immediately to the manager’s words.
“Since I’m a ‘guy who has had clothes made a few times,’ I can’t turn a blind eye to a boutique that is rude to a guest.”
Only then did the manager seem to realize his mistake.
He looked startled and bowed deeply.
“Oh, those words weren’t meant for you, Young Master.”
“What did I say earlier?”
“Pardon?”
The manager blinked.
“Didn’t I clearly say to make the highest quality clothing, regardless of the cost?”
“Ah, yes, yes. I remember, and of course, I intended to make them that way.”
I snorted.
“To be able to make clothes that fit perfectly just by glancing at someone—that’s amazing. On top of that, treating a guest like a servant… I suppose the Hestian family seems like a joke to you?”
The boutique manager was flustered for a moment. Then he answered in a confident voice.
“A joke? Absolutely not! That is simply because I have so much experience that I can get accurate measurements just by eye.”
“Is that so?”
I stood up from the sofa and pulled out the measuring tape that was peeking out from the gap in the manager’s bag.
Then I walked over to him and held out my hand.
“Show me the measurements for Locke that you’ve written down so far.”
“Pardon?”
“I said, give me the notebook.”
When I gestured with my outstretched hand, the boutique manager looked reluctant.
“Well… this contains the measurements of other customers as well, so I cannot show you someone else’s information…”
“I didn’t ask for someone else’s; I asked to see his measurements.”
“It’s difficult because several people’s measurements are recorded on one page.”
“Are you going to keep lying to me like this? Fine. Then read out Locke’s measurements written there one by one.”
Only then, realizing that my words were not a light bluff, the manager fell to his knees.
“I am sorry, Young Master. But not all custom-made measurements are 100% accurate. Any boutique is bound to have a difference of 1 to 2 centimeters.”
“If it were just the measurements, I wouldn’t have kicked you out. I would have asked you to measure properly. Your biggest mistake was not treating a customer like a customer. What merchant in the world calls a guest ‘this guy’ and treats them so carelessly?”
“I am sorry…”
“This money is a travel fee for the trouble of coming here. Before I start nitpicking how pathetic the records in that notebook are, shouldn’t you just take this money and leave?”
The manager opened his mouth to make another excuse.
When I cut him off by saying that if he said one more word, I would want to share this experience with other noble families, the manager finally packed his things along with the coins and left the drawing room.
A little later, Locke, who was watching the carriage leave the mansion through the window, turned around and asked me.
“Was there a need to go this far?”
“How can I do business with someone who looks down on their guest?”
“I am fine even if you don’t have clothes made for me. I wouldn’t have come here if I knew you called me for this reason in the first place.”
“What noble would take their servant looking like a beggar? The Hestian Count family is a family that knows dignity and manners. We must follow etiquette more strictly than anyone. Of course, that’s just a manner of speaking—I don’t mean you look like a beggar. You’re handsome and have a good body, so you’d shine more than anyone there even if you wore rags. However, a banquet is a place with formality and rules. Even if you’re handsome, you can’t attend wearing just anything.”
He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly his eyes softened.
“……Am I handsome?”
His eyes looked even more brilliantly golden today in the sunlight coming in diagonally through the window.
Perhaps because of the heat of the sun on my face, I felt a bit of a flush and quickly turned my head.
“To ask such a question after seeing my face. You’ve got some nerve.”
I gave a vague answer and looked away randomly, only to lock eyes with Howard, who was standing at a distance watching the two of us.
I cleared my throat and asked him to send word to the boutique where I originally got my clothes.
“Tell them it’s urgent, so I’d like them to come as soon as possible. Be sure to add that I’ll pay whatever extra fee is necessary.”
Howard, looking back and forth between Locke and me, let out a deep sigh and bowed his head.
“I will try to set the earliest possible date.”
There was nothing in the world that couldn’t be done with money.
That was true whether it was in a novel or reality.
A few days later, the owner, who had retired from the front lines and left the boutique to his disciples, visited the mansion personally.
A man dressed in flamboyant clothing entered the drawing room with a gentle smile.
Since I heard he was an owner who had retired, I thought he would be quite old, but he was a strikingly handsome man.
“It is truly an honor to meet the youngest son of Count Hestian. I am James Rose, the owner of Rosemoon.”
The owner smiled brightly.
He was worthy of being the owner of a boutique famous in the plaza.
He was meticulous and had good taste.
Every outfit he pointed out while looking at the catalog, saying it would suit Locke well, was perfectly to my liking.
Of course, the person in question seemed to be waiting for this boring time to end, saying anything was fine.
It was evident just by the fact that he chose the simplest design among the clothes the owner picked.
However, the owner did not give up and poured out opinions about adding details.
I was satisfied with all the opinions he offered, so I asked Locke over and over how he felt about each one.
At first, Locke tried to stop me with an annoyed look, but as the conversation dragged on, he seemed to give up and just nodded at my recommendations.
When the design selection was finished, the owner approached Locke with a measuring tape, saying they should take measurements.
“A perfect outfit just for you will be born. Please trust me with it.”
The eye-catching, beaming smile was a bonus.
‘Yes, that’s how it should be!’
Seeing the owner ask questions about every detail and record them in his notebook made me feel at ease, as if a blockage had been cleared.
His eyes, holding the measuring tape, sparkled with determination.
Starting from Locke’s neck to his shoulders, arms, and sleeves.
The owner took measurements meticulously without missing a thing.
Then, saying he needed to measure the waist this time, he wrapped his arms around Locke’s waist while holding the measuring tape.
I flinched the moment I saw that.
It was because an unknown, strange sting had poked at my insides.
The owner did not ignore Locke.
Rather, he was as polite as if he were dealing with a noble and took measurements carefully.
He was even considerate enough to lighten the mood with occasional jokes and compliments so the customer wouldn’t be nervous.
If so, what was the problem that made me feel so unpleasant?
I couldn’t figure it out at all.
* * *
