There isn't really anything in this world that could be called a proper maid outfit.
Because the nobility has no reason to care about what commoners wear.
The black one-piece maid dress we commonly think of today was established during the Victorian era, when a social class that was neither quite noble nor quite commoner exploded in number.
It was clothing born from people who weren't nobles but wanted to act like them—people who wanted to distinguish themselves from their maids and show off that they could afford to employ one.
But here, where there's no need for that, a maid's outfit is simply something neat, with an apron tied on properly, and that's the end of it.
What a dreadful thing.
The maid's color scheme isn't even black and white?
That was unacceptable. So the very first thing I made was a maid outfit.
Modern maid outfits have unfortunately become tied to sexual fetishism, but the original Victorian maid dress was built around key words like modesty, neatness, simplicity, and composure.
What matters to nobles is dignity—servants can't be vulgar.
And our Emily is a maid whose core qualities are modesty, neatness, and composure.
"Heh heh heh… heh heh heh…"
I couldn't stop laughing.
As I stared intently at the dressing room Emily had entered, I burst into manic laughter about once every ten seconds.
For the first time since being reborn, I was about to see a perfect, flawless maid.
"You're taking so loooong…"
It had only been three minutes since Emily went into the dressing room.
Not even enough time to properly change, but waiting like this made me feel like I'd grow old and die before she came out.
Is this what a child feels like on their first Christmas?
Click.
"!"
As I bounced my leg impatiently, the doorknob turned and the tightly shut dressing room door opened.
Finally!
I was about to see the flawless maid I hadn't seen for the past seventeen years.
My heart pounded like it was about to burst.
I rubbed my chest, trying to calm my wildly racing heart, and then Emily stepped out of the dressing room hesitantly, clearly awkward in her new clothes.
"Inhale… exhale…"
She carefully shut the door behind her, took a deep breath, and slowly walked toward me.
The upper half had the feel of a blouse; the skirt was full yet elegant.
I had shortened the one-piece slightly so that her flats and socks would subtly show when she walked, and added pure white frills to the hem so it wouldn't look too plain.
The essential maid apron was made from white fabric, with decorations kept to a minimum for simplicity. I made it long enough to cover from her shins to her chest, but slightly narrow so it wouldn't completely hide the dress beneath.
And to finish off her somewhat plain hairstyle, I added a frilled hairband.
"Young master."
Before I knew it, Emily had come right up to me. She placed her hands demurely near her navel, straightened her back, and stood with her legs neatly together.
"How does it look to you, young master? Does it suit me the way you imagined?"
Black hair and dark eyes with a faint gray tint.
A ponytail tied up neatly without a single stray strand.
Clear, clean skin.
A calm, refined impression.
And topped with a spoonful of maid outfit.
"Perfect."
I flashed a wide grin and gave her a thumbs-up.
When someone perfectly suited for a maid outfit wears a maid outfit, how could it possibly look strange?
If it did? Then that would mean I made the clothes like an idiot.
After all, fashion is completed by the face.
"I'm glad you like it."
"Is anything uncomfortable? Too loose anywhere?"
"Hmm…"
Pouting slightly, Emily moved her arms and legs around.
She squatted, stretched, and shifted about before returning to a polite posture with a bright smile.
"It's fine. The size fits just right."
"Really?"
That was good news.
It meant there was no need for additional alterations.
Later, I just needed to clean up the loose threads and neatly finish the hem.
"Young master…"
As I admired myself for managing to create something nearly perfect despite not sewing in a long time, Emily fidgeted with her fingers and spoke cautiously.
"If you've seen enough… may I take it off now?"
"Hmm…"
I had confirmed what I needed to, so it would be fine for her to take it off…
But there was still one thing I wanted to see.
The very thing I'd wanted most when I first decided to make a maid outfit.
"Before you change, can I ask one favor?"
"…Is it something strange?"
"No, you just have to say one line."
"I'll decide after I hear it."
"Just say, 'Young master, it is morning. Please wake up.' Just once, in a gentle voice, with no expression."
"…?"
Her lips twisted slightly to the left as her face filled with confusion.
I knew it was sudden, but the image of a maid in a maid outfit gently drawing back the curtains in the morning and waking her master in a soft voice—
Honestly, how could I resist that?
I'd endured her rustic outfits all this time; wasn't I entitled to at least this much of a reward?
"Well… that much is doable."
"Then please."
Emily made a reluctant face, but after a brief hesitation, she gave a narrowly positive response.
"Ahem! Hm!"
Closing her eyes and wiping all expression from her face, Emily covered her mouth lightly with her right fist and cleared her throat.
With just a moment of preparation, a maid who addressed her master in a businesslike, professional manner stood before me.
I clasped my hands together and waited with a pounding heart. Then her firmly closed lips slowly parted.
"Young master, it is morning. Please wake up."
Her expression had grown solemn, her eyes slightly narrower than usual.
Red lips that let out a soft, gentle voice.
An elegance born from restrained movements and composure.
Simple, yet beautiful.
Why hadn't I seen this sooner?
To think I had left such a gem buried under those unfashionable clothes. I deeply resented myself for not having the courage when I was younger.
"Young master? Um… don't just stare blankly—please say something."
As I stood there lost in a daze, Emily, face flushed and shoulders slightly hunched, spoke shyly.
"Ah…"
This was too precious to keep to myself.
Shouldn't everyone in the mansion see this?
"Young master?"
I suddenly sprang to my feet and grabbed Emily by the wrist.
It was still breakfast time—Mother should be in the dining hall, right?
It would be close, but if we hurried, we could reach her before she left.
"Emily, let's go see Mother right now."
"Pardon?"
I grabbed Emily's arm and walked out of the room.
Startled, Emily tried to pull her arm back and stop me, but it's not easy for a woman to overpower a man.
"Young master! Just a moment! Your mother? You mean the madam? You're going to see her like this?"
"It's fine, Emily. You look absolutely beautiful right now!"
"That's not the issue! Young master! Please calm down first! At least change clothes before going to see the madam—"
"Let's hurry, Emily!"
"Young master!"
As the door swung open, Emily's voice echoed noisily down the hallway.
Dragging Emily along, I arrived at the dining room. Father and Hayes were nowhere to be seen—perhaps they had already finished their meal and left—but fortunately, Mother was still seated at the table, continuing her breakfast.
Overjoyed that we had made it just in time, I called out to her in an excited voice.
"Mother!"
"Yes, William. You don't need to shout. This mother of yours can hear you just fine."
Mother, who had been elegantly slicing her meat with a knife, frowned and lightly covered one ear with her left hand.
"And?"
Her head, which had been lowered toward her plate, slowly lifted to face me.
"What is all this commotion so early in the morning—"
She had been glaring at me with widened eyes, but when she noticed Emily standing behind me, three distinct furrows formed between her brows.
She cast a brief glance at another maid waiting nearby, then looked back at Emily and spoke.
"William, what have you done to Emily?"
I forcibly pulled Emily out from behind me so Mother could see her clearly.
"M-Young master? Why are you pushing me forward—wait a moment!"
Emily, pale as a sheet, shook her head vigorously in resistance, but it didn't amount to much.
"Ugh…"
Feeling the difference in strength once again, Emily half gave up and straightened her posture neatly.
After a bit of scuffling behind her that had left her hairband crooked, I adjusted it and, smiling like a proud parent looking at a well-raised child, said,
"Mother, isn't this outfit really pretty?"
"Hmm…"
With a small hum, Mother's eyes moved from top to bottom, then bottom to top.
"Well… I don't know where you bought it, but it's not bad. It's clean and modest. It suits Emily well."
"Right?"
As expected, Mother recognized it at a glance.
I felt like I was floating. Patting Emily on the back with a beaming smile, I noticed Mother setting down her fork and pressing her temple firmly with her left hand as she spoke.
"William, could you explain what this is about?"
"Mother, how about changing all the maids' uniforms in the house to this?"
"Haah…"
Mother shut her eyes tightly, and her deep sigh filled the dining room.
The atmosphere turned icy in an instant. Every servant in the room immediately lowered their heads to avoid meeting her gaze.
"Young master…"
Caught between Mother and me and unable to avoid the situation like the other servants, Emily called out to me in a tearful voice.
But when it came to Mother, there wasn't much I could do either.
All I could do was avoid Emily's desperate eyes and wait for Mother to speak.
"William."
After what felt like an eternity, Mother opened her eyes and called my name.
Fixing me with a sharp glare, she pointed her knife at the chair across from her and spoke in a cold voice.
"Sit down and eat first."
"Yes, ma'am."
…Mother's definitely angry.