This world doesn't really have anything you'd call a proper maid uniform.
Why? Because nobles have no reason to pay attention to what commoners wear.
The classic black dress maid uniform we think of today was established during the Victorian era, when the middle class—neither quite nobles nor commoners—exploded in numbers.
It was born from people who weren't nobles but wanted to dress like them, a way to distinguish themselves from their maids while bragging that they could afford to hire one.
But here, where that's not necessary, maid outfits are just neat and tidy with a well-tied apron, and that's it.
What a horror.
A maid's color scheme not black and white?
Unacceptable. So the first thing I made was a maid uniform.
Unfortunately, modern maid uniforms have become an element of sexual fetishism, but the original Victorian ones were all about modesty, neatness, simplicity, and serenity.
Dignity is crucial for nobles, and their servants can't look vulgar.
And our Emily is the epitome of a modest, neat, and serene maid.
"Heh heh heh... Heh heh heh..."
I couldn't stop laughing.
I stared intently at the changing room where Emily had gone in, bursting into mad cackles every ten seconds.
Finally, after being reborn, I get to see a flawless maid.
"She's taking forever..."
It had only been three minutes since Emily entered the changing room.
She probably hasn't even had time to change properly, but waiting like this made me feel like I'd turn into an old man.
Is this how a kid feels on their first Christmas?
-Click.
"!"
As I fidgeted my legs wildly waiting for Emily, the doorknob turned, and the firmly shut changing room door swung open.
At last!
After seventeen years, I can behold the flawless maid.
My heart pounded like it was about to explode.
I rubbed my chest, trying to calm my wildly thumping heart, when Emily emerged hesitantly from the changing room, clearly awkward in the new outfit.
"Sigh... Hoo..."
Emily carefully closed the changing room door and took a deep breath before slowly walking toward me.
The top had a blouse-like feel, paired with a full yet elegant skirt.
I'd shortened the dress length slightly so her ankles and socks peeked out with each step, and added crisp white frills to the hem to keep it from looking too plain.
The essential maid apron was made of pure white fabric, kept simple with minimal decoration, long enough to cover from her shins to her chest but narrow enough not to completely hide the dress.
And to finish off her somewhat plain hair, a frilled headband.
"Young Master."
Emily, now right in front of me, placed her hands demurely near her navel, straightened her back, and brought her legs neatly together.
"What do you think, Young Master? Does it suit me as you imagined?"
Her black hair and deep eyes with a hint of gray.
A neat ponytail without a single stray hair.
Clear, translucent skin.
A serene and refined impression.
Topped with the maid uniform.
"Perfect."
I flashed her a thumbs-up with my right hand and a wide grin.
Someone optimized for maid uniforms wearing one? No way it wouldn't look good.
If it doesn't? Then I made it like an idiot.
Fashion's perfection is the face, after all.
"I'm glad you like it."
"Any discomfort? Anything loose?"
"Hmm..."
Emily pursed her lips and wiggled her arms and legs around.
She squatted, stretched, moved every which way, then resumed her polite posture with a bright smile.
"It's fine. The size is perfect."
"Really?"
Music to my ears.
No need for alterations.
Just tidy up the rough seams and hem later.
"Um, Young Master."
As I admired Emily—marveling at my own handiwork despite not sewing in ages—she fidgeted with her fingers and spoke cautiously.
"Have you seen enough? Can I change now?"
"Hmm..."
I'd checked what I needed, so she could change, but...
There was one more thing I wanted to see.
The thing I'd most wanted to see when I first made the maid uniform.
"One request before you change?"
"...Is it something weird?"
"No, just say one line."
"I'll hear it first and decide."
"Say, 'Young Master, it's morning. Please wake up.' Just once, in a soft voice with no expression."
"...?"
Emily's lips twisted slightly to the left, her face full of confusion.
I knew it was random, but a maid in uniform gently waking her master by drawing the curtains in the morning?
Come on, who could resist?
She'd put up with those rustic clothes for so long; this reward seemed fair.
"Well... that's doable."
"Then, please."
Emily looked reluctant but nodded after a brief hesitation.
"Ahem! Hm!"
She closed her eyes, erased all expression from her face, covered her mouth with her right fist, and cleared her throat to loosen up.
In that instant, a professional maid treating her master formally appeared before me.
With hands clasped and heart pounding, I waited as her sealed lips parted gently.
"Young Master, it's morning. Please wake up."
Her serious expression and narrowed eyes.
Red lips flowing with a soft voice.
Grace born from restrained movements and demeanor.
Simple yet beautiful.
Why hadn't I seen this sooner?
To leave such a gem buried under those tacky clothes—I hated my younger self for not mustering the courage earlier.
"Young Master? D-don't just stare... say something."
Lost in her gaze, Emily blushed, shrank her neck, and spoke shyly.
"Ah..."
This was too good to keep to myself.
Everyone in the mansion should see it.
"Young Master?"
I jumped up and grabbed Emily's wrist.
It was still breakfast time, so Mother should be in the dining hall.
A close call, but if we hurried, we'd make it before she left.
"Emily, let's go see Mother right now."
"Pardon?"
I dragged her by the arm out of the room.
Startled, she tugged back to stop me, but a woman overpowering a man in strength isn't easy.
"Young Master! Wait! Mother? You mean Madam? Like this?"
"It's fine, Emily—you look stunning right now!"
"That's not the point! Young Master! Calm down first! We should change and then go to Madam..."
"Hurry, Emily!"
"Yoooung Maaaster!"
The door flew open, and Emily's voice echoed loudly down the hall.
_
I dragged Emily all the way to the dining hall. Father and Hayes had already finished and left, but luckily, Mother was still seated, continuing her meal.
Overjoyed at arriving just in time, I called out to her excitedly.
"Mother!"
"Yes, William—even a quiet voice reaches these ears."
Mother, elegantly slicing her meat with a knife, frowned slightly and covered one ear with her left hand.
"So."
Her head lifted slowly from her plate toward me.
"What is this morning commotion..."
Her eyes widened, glaring at me, but then she spotted Emily behind me and furrowed her brow deeply.
She glanced at the other nearby maids on standby, then back at Emily and spoke.
"William, what have you done to Emily?"
I yanked the hiding Emily out from behind me and shoved her forward into Mother's clear view.
"Y-Young Master? Why push me forw—wait!"
Pale-faced, Emily shook her head frantically in resistance, but it was futile.
"Ugh..."
Feeling the strength difference once more, Emily half-resigned, straightened her posture, and stood tall.
After fixing her slightly crooked headband from our brief tussle, I smiled like a parent proud of a well-raised child and said,
"Mother, doesn't this outfit look amazing on her?"
"Hmm..."
With a small hum, Mother's eyes scanned Emily from top to bottom, then bottom to top.
"Well... I don't know where you got it, but it's not bad. Neat, proper—suits Emily well."
"Right?"
I knew Mother would see it at a glance.
I felt like I could float away.
Patting Emily's back with a beaming smile, Mother set down her fork, pressed her temples with her left hand, and spoke.
"William, can you explain what this is about?"
"Mother, how about changing all the maids' uniforms to this?"
"Haa..."
Mother's deep sigh, eyes squeezed shut, filled the dining hall.
The atmosphere turned icy in an instant; every servant avoided her gaze and bowed their heads.
"Yoooung Master..."
Trapped between me and Mother, unable to hide like the others, Emily called to me pleadingly, her voice thick with tears.
But against Mother, even I was powerless.
I just averted my eyes from Emily's desperate gaze and waited for Mother to speak.
"William."
As I waited anxiously, Mother opened her eyes and called me.
She glared sharply, pointing her knife at the chair opposite her, and said coolly,
"First, eat your breakfast."
"Yes, ma'am."
Mother's mad...