As the receptionist finishes taking my measurements with a soft measuring tape, I look at the manager and gather my courage. "Madam... may I ask a question?"
"Of course, my dear," the manager replies warmly. "Ask whatever you wish."
"I was wondering..." I pause, glancing nervously at the stiff, boned mannequins in the room. "Do you happen to have any dresses made without those heavy, bone-lined corsets? I really dislike them... they're so suffocating and uncomfortable. I was hoping there might be a softer alternative?"
The manager blinks, her eyebrows shooting up in utter bewilderment.
"A dress... without a corset?" She tilts her head, looking at me as if I've suggested something unexpected. "Are you referring to indoor loungewear, My Lady? Something soft to wear as a nightgown or around your private chambers? We certainly have loose garments for that, and we could tailor them with finer fabrics if you wish."
I shake my head quickly, waving a hand. "No, no. I don't mean nightgowns. I mean dresses we can actually wear outside like to balls, social gatherings, and banquets."
Both the manager and the receptionist stare at me as if I've grown a second head. A collective gasp of disbelief escapes them.
"Wear... without a corset? To a public event?!" The receptionist stammers, her eyes wide with sheer panic. "Are you joking, My Lady? That is completely impossible! A proper noblewoman cannot simply wear unstructured, plain clothing outside the estate. It violates every rule of high etiquette! People would think... well, it simply isn't proper at all!"
I blink, scratching my cheek sheepishly. Right. Aristocratic fashion is basically medieval torture disguised as high art. "Ah... I see. So it has to be a rigid, suffocating cage just to look 'noble,' huh?"
A sudden, clever thought sparks in my modern, stylist-informed brain. "Wait, what if we keep the gorgeous, grand, fluffy look, but get rid of the bone corsets entirely? Is there a way to make it completely comfortable while still keeping that majestic, voluminous silhouette?.."
The manager's expression tightens, a look of polite skepticism washing over her face. She clearly thinks I'm just a sheltered, naive noble girl talking nonsense. However, remembering my powerful family name, she forces a patient, humoring smile. "And how, pray tell, would one achieve a grand, voluminous silhouette without a structured corset underneath?" she asks, crossing her arms with mild condescension. "Do tell me more."
"Well, I've an idea" I say, leaning forward with enthusiasm, completely missing her judgmental tone. "Instead of compressing your entire torso with steel and whalebone, what if we build the volume underneath the dress using hidden layers? Like... stiff netting, layered tulle, or multiple petticoats? If you layer lightweight, breathable fabrics and nets underneath, the skirt will naturally puff out and look gorgeous and fluffy, but the actual bodice can remain soft and comfortable without crushing your ribs!"
The moment the words leave my mouth, the room falls dead silent.
The manager's eyes suddenly dilate. The skepticism completely vanishes in a single heartbeat, replaced by the brilliant, predatory spark of a true master artisan realizing a revolutionary idea.
Before I can even react, the manager lunges forward, grabbing both of my shoulders with a fierce, urgent grip. Her eyes are practically shining.
"Layers of netting?! Internal structure without body compression?!" she gasps, her voice trembling with excitement. "That... that is utterly ingenious! How on earth did you conceive of such a brilliant design concept?! Tell me more, I must hear every single detail right now!"
The receptionist drops her quill, her jaw hitting the floor as she waves her hands in absolute horror. "M-Madam?! Please maintain your composure! You cannot just grab a member of the House of Valerius like that..!"
The manager instantly snaps back to reality. She clears her throat loudly, coughing into her fist, straightening her posture, and smoothing down her immaculate silk dress. With a swift, practiced recovery, she puts on her most composed, professional smile.
"Ahem," she says, her cheeks flushing a faint pink as she steps back. "Pardon my... sudden professional enthusiasm, My Lady. Please, do continue explaining this fascinating concept."
"Can you please bring me a notebook and something to write with?" I ask, a spark of pure excitement lighting up my chest.
The manager gives a sharp, expectant nod, and the receptionist instantly catches the gesture, hurrying off and returning a moment later with a crisp, leather-bound sketchbook and a fine ink quill.
I take the pen and dive right in, my hand moving swiftly across the parchment. I sketch the structural mechanics, cross-hatched layers of stiff netting, soft tulle volume underneath, a structured yet entirely unboned bodice, and floating skirts that look like a cloud without the crushing weight.
As I explain the concept, my voice fills with passionate enthusiasm. In my grueling corporate life, I barely have a moment to breathe, let alone pursue creative design or study diverse subjects the way I always wants to. I had always secretly dreamed of being a strategist or an advisor, someone who could build things from the ground up. Now, with all this unexpected time and freedom in this world, it feels great. For a brief moment, I feel less like a sheltered noble lady and more like a lead director running a major project.