High Theodor.
Anyone could see that it was clearly named after Cecilia's son, Theo. The name graced her haute couture shop, "High Theodor."
Even before its official opening, "High Theodor" had garnered significant attention in high society.
"Doesn't that name sound familiar? Where have I heard it?"
"Of course! It was the place where Theo wore his clothes from."
"Ah, that's right! And the dress Lady Cecilia wore was absolutely stunning, too."
"They've just opened a big store in the city nearby. Want to check it out sometime?"
"Sounds good!"
Theo's performance at Rey's birthday banquet, along with his stylish attire, became the talk of the town. Cecilia, dressed elegantly, appeared frequently at social gatherings, drawing the interest of many.
But that wasn’t all.
"Hmm? Is Bask’s workshop involved in fashion too?"
"Oh, sir. That place is one of our affiliated partners. It’s close by, so perhaps you’d like to visit? They have a variety of beautiful accessories that might interest your wife."
"How about the price...?"
"Naturally, we’re offering a discount for the grand opening!"
"Ah, in that case, I can’t resist!"
With the revelation that Bask's workshop was a partner, even men who had little interest in fashion became curious. Many who had initially come to purchase weapons saw the advertisements and ended up buying gifts for their wives or partners.
"Do you know who I am? Me! And I can't even get this one thing!"
"I’m sorry, sir. But no cuts allowed."
"If you keep running things like this, I’ll have to pull the plug on Winterra's business from here..."
"The head of the Ragnar family is the shop owner’s husband. Think you could pull it off?"
"Eek!"
Sometimes, people would try to use their status or profession to gain special treatment, but as soon as they heard the name Ragnar, they quickly retreated.
Each day was incredibly busy, yet Cecilia’s face blossomed with smiles instead of showing fatigue.
She was a completely different person now than when she had been cooped up in the Rose Palace, constantly fearing that Kyle’s affection might stray to someone else.
And then, one day...
*Smack!*
The sound of a slap echoed, and a tailor’s head whipped to the side.
"How dare a lowly thing like you talk back to me like that!"
A middle-aged woman, dressed in an elaborate gown, glared viciously at the tailor. Everyone’s eyes turned toward her.
"What are you looking at? Is this a show for you?"
But as soon as the woman’s sharp gaze fell upon them, the onlookers quickly exited the shop.
Under normal circumstances, they might have stayed to watch the scene unfold in the safety of a Ragnar-protected shop, but the woman’s status seemed intimidating enough to keep them at bay.
Vivian Lee Narcissus Mulligan.
As the matron of the Narcissus family and a member of the Mulligan family, which rivaled the Ragnars in fame in the south, she was known for her arrogant nature.
Even her husband, the head of the household, reportedly avoided her whenever she got angry.
"I heard personal calls were not accepted, so I thought I'd come personally to see how skilled you all really are. What kind of establishment runs things like this? Where is your manager? Bring her here immediately!"
Some of the assistants quickly went to the back.
Cecilia soon appeared.
"Madam, I...!"
"Leave the rest to me and take a break," Cecilia said, guiding the teary-eyed tailor, who held a hand to her cheek, to the break room. Then she turned to face Vivian Lee.
"You wanted to see me, madam?"
"Hmph, yes. Are you the manager here?"
With her fan, adorned with feathers, held up to her lips, Vivian Lee openly looked Cecilia up and down.
"Yes, I am. If you could let us know what has displeased you, I will ensure appropriate measures are taken."
"And how, pray tell, do you intend to do that?"
Despite the blatant contempt, Cecilia didn’t even flinch.
"If you don’t specify what’s troubling you, we won’t be able to assist."
"Fine. If you insist, I’ll tell you."
"Please, go ahead."
"Everything! Every single thing from start to finish!"
Vivian Lee’s voice grew louder.
"I am a VVIP, and they just made me wait without any proper refreshments, not to mention they assigned me an untrained tailor who dares tell me what to do, and on top of that, they said it would take at least a week to complete my clothes? They should be bringing me finished pieces and begging me to wear them!"
Hearing this, the staff and tailor in the background turned red with embarrassment.
The complaints were ridiculous.
"Improper refreshments?"
Cecilia had personally gone out to procure tea and treats from the western highlands, a rarity even among high nobles. While it may not have suited Vivian Lee's tastes, calling it "improper" was absurd.
"And an untrained tailor?"
All the tailors at the shop were renowned enough to launch their own brands and had joined only because of their trust in Cecilia. The tailor assigned to Vivian Lee was even once employed by the royal family.
Moreover, it was Vivian Lee who had insulted and physically humiliated the tailor.
And as for waiting times, the shop was so overwhelmed with orders that it was common for regular customers to wait six months. Cecilia had made a special exception for a week-long wait as a courtesy to Theo's friend’s mother.
But as soon as they mentioned the wait, Vivian Lee had slapped the tailor, merely for making her wait.
"That’s...!"
One of the assistants, unable to hold back, was about to protest, but Cecilia raised a hand, stopping them.
Instead, she gestured to the butler standing nearby and gave him a few instructions.
"You know that thing? Bring it."
"Yes, ma’am."
The butler promptly handed Cecilia a well-worn notebook.
Vivian Lee’s eyebrow twitched.
Cecilia’s intentions were unclear, but without any change in expression, she calmly flipped through the pages, stopping at a specific entry.
"Madam Vivian Lee, it appears that you visited our shop two weeks ago as well."
"And so?"
"At that time, you also kicked one of our employees in the shin when asked to wait."
"What?"
Vivian Lee’s face twisted.
"And a month ago, you threw cold water in the face of a jeweler's clerk after they refused to extend you credit."
"You...!"
"And three months ago, you demanded a full refund and compensation on a dress purchased five years prior at another shop."
"Grrr!"
"There have been a total of twelve such refund requests, twenty-one instances of assaults on hairdressers and tailors, and thirty-four unpaid credits...."
"What are you trying to pull here?!"
Vivian Lee’s face turned crimson.
Who could have known of all these incidents? And to humiliate her so publicly!
Only then did her eyes fall on the title on Cecilia’s notebook.
"List of Troublesome Customers."
Wait... did she... did she just label me a 'troublesome customer'?
"It seems that <High Theodor> will be unable to complete your order. We apologize, and the exit is just behind you. Please feel free to use it. Thank you."
With a graceful bow, Cecilia turned to her staff.
"What are you all waiting for? The troublemaker is gone; back to work!"
The staff stifled laughter as they returned to their tasks.
Vivian Lee’s body shook with rage.
Had she ever suffered such humiliation?
The guards who had accompanied her tightened their grips on their swords, ready to act.
But just then...
*Splaash!*
"Oh dear, my hand slipped."
"Kyaaa!"
Suddenly, a vase appeared above Vivian Lee’s head, and water poured down on her.
Vivian Lee let out a shriek, glaring backward, and the guards’ eyes darted toward the source—only to freeze.
It was Lady Mae Blossom, her face apologetic.
"I wanted to take a closer look at the flowers and made a mistake. What should I do?"
Despite her words, her eyes were anything but apologetic.
Emotionless, cold.
"I’ve heard that in Narcissus, they cut off hands for such accidents. Should I offer mine?"
Lady Mae Blossom held her hand out nonchalantly, causing the guards to recoil in panic.
Vivian Lee, soaked and humiliated, could only shake with fury, saying nothing.
Starting a confrontation with the First Lady of the Ragnar family and one of the Nine Dragons here would be a clear disaster.
"Let’s go!"
Vivian Lee bit her lip and stormed out of the shop.
Visit fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm for the best novel reading experi𝒆nce.
A cheer soon erupted from the shop’s staff.
Lady Mae Blossom, smiling, turned to look at the expressionless Cecilia.
"I’ve heard a lot about this place's excellent tailoring. Might I arrange a consultation?"
Cecilia, after a long pause, nodded quietly.
"...Please, come inside."
* * *
Time flew by.
During this period, Theo formally trained the newly christened "Knights of Kriemhilt" at the temple.
As the chaos began to subside, Theo handed Vittorio an introduction letter before he departed again for trade.
The letter suggested that instead of relying on the failing Ceres Trading Company, the Bacchus family should consider an alliance with the Maritime Union.
A brief response soon arrived.
"When did you manage to reach them?"
For Navan, it was unbelievable.
He had heard that Theo was on the Floating Archipelago through the newspapers, but he hadn’t imagined he’d draw the entire Maritime Union to the north.
Of course, there was no reason to decline.
With the Bacchus family on the verge of collapse due to the losses sustained by Winterra, this alliance provided a lifeline.
Thanks to Theo, Navan was able to quickly prepare to establish a joint venture with Vittorio.
"We’ll work well together from now on."
"The pleasure is ours. Let’s swiftly make headway while there are few competing guilds in the north."
"A monopoly is every merchant’s dream, after all."
Bacchus took charge of transport and security for the Maritime Union, while the union swiftly sourced goods from across regions.
The profit distribution was set at 4:4:2, with the Maritime Union and Bacchus each holding 40%, and Theo owning the remaining 20%.
Theo’s shares not only reflected their gratitude but also offered a neutral standpoint in any future disputes.
This secured Theo’s voice in the company, connecting it with High Theodor and Bask’s workshop to expand operations.
Considerable funds would be necessary to move forward, but this partnership promised to be a solid foundation for growth.
With various affairs settled, time passed quickly once more.
And before he knew it, the new year arrived.
"Theo, you’re sixteen now, aren’t you?"
"Yes, indeed."
"Aah! You’re still a fledgling. So envious."
"Selpard, this makes you... closing in on your ninth decade?"
"Hey! Quiet down!"
In the north, it was traditional to calculate age by the new year rather than one’s birthday.
And so, Theo could now reflect on his new age.
Although twenty was still far off, he could feel the time passing since his return.
Not that there was time to dwell on it.
*A directive.*
The flames of war spreading from the north continued to grow rapidly.