Chapter 22

Chapter 22
## Chapter 22: Never Mind The Heir, I’ll Focus On Healing

Once she finished explaining everything regarding Lion’s predicament, Leah let out a long breath of relief.

“Ah, are you speaking of that particular seamstress?”

“Yes, exactly. The one I worked alongside during our volunteer days.”

I happened to catch sight of her in between my volunteer tasks, and her craftsmanship was truly phenomenal.

Working simply with leftover scraps of fabric, she would have the children try on loose garments she brought along, instantly tailoring them until they fit each child to absolute perfection!

Watching her felt akin to observing a true master of the craft.

‘The moment I laid eyes on the completed piece, I genuinely mistook it for an exclusive luxury item.’

Even by Lion’s standards, having spent his entire existence surrounded by aristocracy, she was the very first tailor he had ever encountered possessing such staggering ability.

The stitching was exceptionally meticulous, and the silhouette of every garment was immaculate. Furthermore, she worked with incredible speed.

Speed in such a craft implied a steadfast and resolute determination in one’s execution.

‘Above all else….’

The aesthetic of her designs was refreshingly clean.

Indeed! Unlike the baffling twists of Rikschel or the avant-garde eccentricity favored by Grandfather, this was entirely different.

Yet, it was by no means dull or uninspired.

She was someone who possessed an innate understanding of what people could readily appreciate and accept!

At this very moment, she was an indispensable talent for Lion.

“Would you be willing to introduce me to her?”

“Without a doubt. Fortunately, Andrie—that is, the seamstress—and I have grown quite close. However…”

Leah pressed a finger lightly against her lips, falling silent in contemplation for a moment.

“What is it? Is there an issue?”

“Well, perhaps it would be best if you accompanied me there directly? You will understand the moment you lay eyes on it.”

What sort of complication could possibly exist?

Could it be that her calendar was completely booked solid, much like Mudu’s?

Lion thought it over, bid a fond farewell to the children, and followed Leah straight to the seamstress’s establishment.

“This is the place.”

“This is it?”

Lion gazed fixedly at the sign that was barely clinging to the exterior wall, creaking ominously in the wind.

『Bouti□ Andr□e』

The paint had chipped away so severely in patches that Boutique Andrie effectively read as “Bouti Ande.”

“Is Andrie considering shutting down her enterprise?”

“Oh heavens, no! Not at all. Andrie is just as generous as you witnessed firsthand, incredibly kind-hearted, and possesses masterful skill! It is simply that…”

Here Leah let out a heavy sigh, wearing a deeply troubled expression.

Creak!

The shop entrance swung open, producing a groan even louder than the doors of the orphanage where they had recently volunteered.

Emerging from the doorway was Andrie herself, attired in a remarkably flamboyant ensemble.

“Could you perhaps be! A prospective customer…!”

Her tone carried an overt sense of hospitality… or rather, desperation.

“Andrie, it’s me. Leah.”

“Ah… Leah! It has been quite some time. Have you been keeping well?”

Rather than showing disappointment upon realizing her visitor wasn’t a fresh patron, Andrie greeted Leah with genuine warmth.

“And this gentleman here… hm? Wait, isn’t that the Young Master from before?”

“I shall explain everything. The circumstances are as follows…”

Leah proceeded to carefully recount the situation step by step.

She explained that he was, in fact, the First Young Master of the Asteri Family, who had chosen to conceal his identity to participate in volunteer work anonymously.

And she added that he was currently seeking out a genuinely ‘skilled seamstress.’

“We share an existing acquaintance thanks to him. I must apologize for keeping his true lineage a secret from you.”

Upon absorbing Leah’s explanation, Andrie registered profound astonishment, though she managed to regain her composure almost immediately.

Everything fell into place logically.

“No… that makes complete sense. Naturally, you would be acquainted with numerous proficient seamstresses…”

Instead, Andrie found her thoughts drifting toward an entirely different concern.

A proficient seamstress?

‘Why on earth me?’

Andrie pondered the question briefly before giving her head a slow shake.

“Ah! Rather than lingering out here in the open, please, do come inside.”

“I have children waiting for my return, so I must take my leave now.”

With those words, Leah offered her farewells, exchanged a meaningful glance with Andrie, and departed.

After all, she still needed to bring Rikschel along.

“Please, step inside, Young Master.”

“If you’ll pardon the intrusion, then.”

Lion stepped past the threshold of Boutique Andrie and scanned the interior environment.

There sat a sewing machine bearing the stains of countless hours of labor, flanked by aging mannequins draped in swaths of fabric. Beyond them, mounted directly on the wall, were various awards and certificates.

‘Are those not credentials from the most prestigious competitions across the Empire?’

That was not the extent of it. Interspersed about were design sketches and pattern drafts dating back to when she was conceptualizing entirely new collections.

‘This establishment is…’

Lion’s commercial intuition, sharpened through years of navigating sales, flared to life.

This was the genuine article.

“I am mortified that a visitor of such high distinction should grace this humble establishment… Oh dear, let me prepare some tea for you.”

“That timing is actually perfect. I brought along some freshly baked cookies; shall we partake in those first?”

Lion made a conscious decision not to rush matters.

Leah and Andrie still had a few unresolved threads between them.

‘I need to hear the full story of what transpired first, and then I can address everything else at a measured pace.’

While the coming-of-age ceremony was approaching, time had not yet run out entirely.

There remained ample margin to produce a handful of garments.

Lion extracted the cookies from his travel pouch, while Andrie hurried to heat water, brew tea, and set out a pair of cups.

Sip!

The beverage lacked any striking flavor profile, yet it was pleasant enough.

“I must offer my apologies. I wish I could extend the hospitality of a finer brew, but my current station does not permit it.”

“It is entirely adequate. More importantly, do sample these. I baked them with my own hands.”

Hearing this, Andrie’s mind drifted back to their days at the orphanage—specifically to the handsome young man dusted in flour who had busied himself baking bread.

To think that same individual was the Young Master of the entire territory.

The baked goods from that day had possessed an extraordinary flavor.

They certainly had not been crafted from the most expensive ingredients available.

And yet…

‘Hmm, he struck me then as a somewhat naive young fellow striving earnestly to impress a noble lady.’

A young man who eschewed elaborate attire, dressing with austere neatness in simple suspender pants, perhaps harboring a bouquet of wild blossoms behind his back.

In a fleeting instant, a complete narrative alongside a corresponding design concept blossomed within Andrie’s imagination.

Naturally, this internal revelation did not completely dissolve her underlying tension or anxiety.

It was simply that a surge of artistic inspiration had taken hold.

Yet, to any true creative mind, inspiration operated much like an intoxicant.

Once a single spark caught fire, one was relentlessly driven to pursue the next.

Andrie’s gaze naturally gravitated downward toward the arrangement of cookies.

‘In that case, how about this?’

What if these were pastries fashioned from superior ingredients compared to before?

Would they evoke that same delightful sense of astonishment—or perhaps an even greater one—than she had experienced back then?

Or were they merely opulent confections manufactured exclusively from high-grade components?

“I shall partake with utmost gratitude.”

Andrie reached out, picked up a delicately contoured cookie, and brought it to her lips.

Crunch! Snap!

Between the crisp, lightly sweetened exterior crust lay a nutty element possessing a soft, yielding texture.

In contrast to the bold initial impression, the finish concluded with a smoothness that felt tailored specifically for someone who preferred treats that were not excessively sugary.

“This is…!”

This creation bore no resemblance to the offerings of that naive young man from the past.

This time around… indeed! It was the exact antithesis.

It evoked the vivid image of a Crown Prince utterly surrendering his heart to a country maiden.

Despite holding all the gold, dominion, and influence in the world, he willingly cast it aside to dwell contentedly in a rural cottage, baking bread and sweets by her side! That was the distinct feeling that washed over her.

Even that expression lacked any ostentatious flashiness; rather, it felt like an understated, natural emanation of his authentic self.

‘It is precisely like… the Young Master standing before me at this very moment.’

Lion Asteri.

The focal point of countless whispered rumors.

Regarded as an eccentric, a familial outcast, with persistent whispers suggesting he had either vanished or already perished.

Yet, viewed through an alternative lens, he remained an enigmatic entity, with the truth entirely obscured.

That summed up the entirety of Andrie’s knowledge concerning Lion.

After all, she had operated under the assumption that their paths would never cross again throughout her natural life.

And yet, she found that she already recognized his character.

And her evaluation of him had been favorable.

‘…Whatever the underlying cause, he is an individual possessing genuine nobility of spirit.’

He possessed the mindfulness to look after his subordinates, and unlike the richness of these confections, he refrained from flaunting his own strengths.

That particular trait struck Andrie as profoundly unexpected.

‘He is entirely distinct from your typical aristocrat.’

Even now, he sat in tranquil composure, enjoying his tea rather than pressing her with the interrogations he undoubtedly held on his mind.

It was unquestionably an intentional gesture to alleviate her psychological burden.

‘To be shown such considerate regard after all this time…!’

Overwhelmed by a sudden surge of emotion, she came perilously close to shedding tears.

For reasons she couldn’t entirely explain, the fatigue that had accumulated from prolonged idleness began to melt away, and Andrie felt her guarded heart gently open.

“Thank you sincerely for such a delightful treat, Young Master.”

“Did you find it to your liking?”

“It nearly brought me to tears.”

Was it truly that moving?

Naturally, Lion possessed no ability to decipher the complex currents running through Andrie’s thoughts.

‘Well, at the very least, she appears significantly more at ease now, which is a positive development.’

As Lion reached the halfway point of his tea, Andrie broke the silence abruptly.

“Young Master. Allow me to speak with complete candor.”

“Hm?”

Taken aback, Lion lowered his teacup to the saucer.

“I am fully capable of producing garments for you. I possess absolute confidence in my ability to weave patterns, execute cuts, and apply embroidery with a grace surpassing anyone else. However, should it ever come to light that I am the mind behind the design, the surrounding nobility will subject me to ridicule.”

“Might I inquire as to why?”

“Because I am the illegitimate offspring of a noble lineage.”

“…”

He certainly had not anticipated having her personal history thrust into the conversation quite so abruptly.

‘Still, what is the inherent problem with being of illegitimate birth?’

Truthfully, instances of noble offspring born out of wedlock were far from rare within the aristocracy.

For instance, the reigning Emperor’s second-born son held illegitimate status.

‘Though, of course, that particular individual eventually received formal recognition.’

Regardless, outside of such extraordinary exceptions, illegitimate children belonging to noble households typically maintained a low profile, living quietly among the common populace.

While it was hardly something to boast of, social convention did not demand that such origins be frantically suppressed and concealed.

Furthermore, seamstresses generally conducted transactions with aristocrats while maintaining commoner standing.

There should be no logical friction arising simply from possessing noble blood through an informal lineage.

Andrie pressed on, elaborating further on her predicament.

“The complication arose because my clientele extended to commoners, rather than being strictly restricted to nobility. Apparently, a handful of dissatisfied patrons took it upon themselves to investigate my background.”

“Mm.”

Only then did Lion grasp the root of the issue.

‘She managed to step on the toes of the aristocracy.’

That was the exact sum of it.

The unpardonable offense of causing displeasure.

Her illegitimate status served merely as a convenient pretext for those seeking to undermine Andrie.

‘The sequence of events is entirely transparent.’

Those particular nobles carried themselves with an insufferable arrogance.

They operated under the assumption that they deserved absolute deference and fawning treatment wherever they traveled.

Particularly when acting as consumers purchasing high-end luxury wares.

From their elevated viewpoint, premium luxuries of that caliber simply ought not to be made accessible to common folk.

Not even in exchange for a king’s ransom! Never under any circumstances.

Doing so, in their minds, diminished their own exalted status.

‘That deeply ingrained sense of privilege is not something easily relinquished.’

“Rumors naturally spawned further rumors, and the patrons who once offered me their backing abruptly withdrew their support.”

Cultivating the animosity of the nobility proved a devastating blow for any commoner operating an enterprise.

It mirrored the plight of a small sub-contracting workshop left utterly powerless to voice grievances against a primary contractor.

“Therefore, should you choose to entrust this task to me, it would be far wiser to present my work under the guise of an unknown newcomer in the profession…”

“Hold for a moment.”

Lion raised a hand, signaling her to halt.

“First, I would appreciate the opportunity to inspect a sample of the garments you have constructed.”

“I have already disposed of every single piece of clothing I previously sold to the nobility…”

Given the financial strain of her circumstances, she undoubtedly had to part with those items at heavily discounted rates.

Presently, she likely possessed nothing more than the scraps of fabric reserved for orphanage donations, let alone materials of superior quality.

That was entirely inconsequential.

“That is of no consequence. My sole desire is to witness the true extent of your craftsmanship.”

“In that case…”

Andrie rose from her seat and dramatically swept aside the fabric curtain covering an adjacent alcove.

Revealed behind it were…

“These are the wares I fashion for my immediate neighbors.”

『Skilled Seamstress’s Ready-made Dress (★★)』

『Skilled Seamstress’s Ready-made Cotton Pants (★★)』

『Skilled Seamstress’s Ready-made Work Clothes (★★)』

『Skilled Seamstress’s Ready-made Bolero (★★)』

There glittered a brilliant constellation of stars.