TCMGF 63

Chapter 63

Anyway, most of the traders in Betra, who had almost suffered collateral damage to their reputation because of them, supported the punishment.

“Valentina and the other guild operators asked us to show them a lesson as well,” someone explained.
“No ordinary trader would have any reason to like them.”

However, a few brazen shop owners who had been operating with absurdly high prices were quite vocal in their opposition. One of them even pointed a finger at Ezekiel and shouted his complaints at the top of his lungs.

“You can’t do this! Even if the Duke is lenient, you can’t expect us to risk our livelihoods! You can’t interfere with someone else’s business!”
“Exactly!”
“You people up there have no idea what it’s like to have to avoid the law just to survive!”
“We’re being treated unfairly!”

There was a bit of a commotion, but once Ezekiel assured them that he would take responsibility, the fines and forced closures went through without major issues.

Or so we thought.

“Waaah! The Duke’s men are killing the townspeople!”

I woke up early in the morning to the noise outside, opened the curtains, and looked down at the first-floor garden. Anna, who had recently returned to her maid duties after finishing the collaboration with Mr. Wharton, came running into my room with a worried expression.

Of course, the short-term promotional shop for the House of Wharton had received favorable reviews, so it was likely to become a permanent location. Anna’s efforts were ongoing, and despite her usual busyness, she had dropped everything to come to my room first thing in the morning. That alone told me this was serious.

“The protests are getting more intense. Some people were arrested for trying to throw stones at the Duke’s residence,” she explained.

Apparently, things had gotten quite heated. Listening to Anna, I went down to the first floor. Michele, still in pajamas, and Ezekiel, impeccably dressed despite it being morning, were there.

“These things happen from time to time. People who have experienced ‘injustice’ often protest very passionately.”
“Two years ago, during the winter break, someone even blocked my carriage returning from the academy and begged me while lying on the ground.”
“Were both of those incidents okay?”

Unlike me, the two seemed accustomed to this. They reassured Anna that it wasn’t anything to worry about. I also believed that, although it was a little noisy now, it would settle in a few days—until Olga came running in with a trembling voice to report something else.

“The people who protested in front of the Duke’s residence recently caused a disturbance in the shopping arcade and got into a fistfight with the existing merchants.”
“There were even cases of broken glass and damaged shop windows.”

A riot. It was a riot!

A dangerous warning sign had emerged. Ezekiel and Michele seemed to realize this wasn’t something to ignore and anxiously watched the situation unfold.

“The commotion was caused by exaggerated rumors. Rumors spread that the merchants who were reported would be permanently banned from the arcade and expelled from Betra.”
“But we never said anything about expulsion,” I said.
“Exactly—that’s the absurdity of it.”

I was confused, experiencing this for the first time. I hadn’t thought managing a territory would be easy or simple, but everything had gone relatively smoothly so far, so I had let my guard down. This made me realize that even ruling a single territory comes with its own growing pains.

“We’ve sent soldiers to maintain order. We’ll also officially announce that these circulating rumors are false,” Ezekiel explained.

My head ached. Perhaps because it was a startling situation, I didn’t feel particularly good.

“Are you alright, milady?”
“I just felt a little dizzy.”
“Please don’t overexert yourself…”

Fortunately, it was a period when few outsiders visited, so the situation didn’t spiral out of control. Aside from a few days of anxious moments trying to suppress the false rumors, the angry sentiment among some of the merchants gradually calmed down.

But just as that small upheaval, which had shaken my mind, began to settle, I was confronted with another shock—this time, news from the House of Wharton.

“A famous critic who visited the city during the last holiday published an evaluation of the striped dress you wore in today’s newspaper.”

The newspaper Ezekiel brought me was the start of a small irritation.

Preparing for the official branch opening of the House of Wharton in Betra, I could feel the anxiety of President Vivian Wharton. Anna, who had suggested applying the striped pattern to the dress, also held her breath nervously as she helped me.

Ezekiel glanced at Anna, then solemnly read the article. After a moment, his eyebrows twitched. He read the critic’s words slowly.

“…The striped dress, the ambitious work of President Vivian Wharton, was shockingly bold.”

This part was within expectation. The problem came next.

“Typically, a dress is made of beautiful silk and lace to enhance elegance. It is a symbol of noble women’s pride and a weapon to distinguish themselves from commoners. However…”

[This dress, influenced by Wharton and the Duchess of Betra, lacked any trace of refinement.]

“Whether it reflected the Duchess’s cheap taste for practical, ready-made fabrics or actively incorporated a third party’s preferences, I cannot say…”

[The design looks as if some untrained commoner cook accidentally put it in the oven—a truly disappointing result.]

Anna’s eyes went wide, frozen in shock. My blood pressure rose too, and I couldn’t help but comment.

“This arrogant tone is unnecessary! It’s not like we were insulting commoners! And in Betra, aside from us, everyone else is a commoner! This is an insult to the territory’s residents!”

The moment I said that, I felt uneasy. Perhaps I too had a trace of classist thinking buried subconsciously. I resolved to remain humble and at least avoid speaking as nastily as that critic.

Ezekiel and Michele reread the sharp critique and evaluated it in reverse.

“At least we can tell the critic’s sarcasm is top-notch.”
“Even you, Uncle, wouldn’t say it like that. This is too much.”
“….”
“It’s true, though.”
“I don’t understand why I’m always the one hurt.”

Of course, Ezekiel wasn’t the only one hurt. Since Anna had been the one to suggest the striped pattern, I worried that the article’s aggressive tone might have wounded her as well.

“Did I make a mistake by stepping forward and ruining your reputation, milady?”

Sure enough. She sighed while rereading the critical article that cut into her. Anna, who had always been bright and reliable, looked deflated. That was hard to watch. I wanted to respond publicly to the arrogant critic, but doing so would only escalate the controversy.

Following advice to ignore it and not react, I gave up on arguing and focused on comforting Anna.

“You’ll face plenty of evaluations like this if you become a designer. If a cruel critic rips you apart, there will also be times when someone appreciates your vision.”
“…Yes. I suppose so.”

Fortunately, Anna was resilient. She quickly recovered, standing up confidently, making my worries seem unnecessary.

“This is a rare opportunity, so I’ll use it to grow. I’m really okay!”

I wondered if Anna had felt similar emotions whenever I was discouraged. Watching someone you care about struggle but not show it—now I truly understood that feeling.

Not long after, I had a meeting with President Wharton for the opening of the House of Wharton’s second branch in Betra. Valentina kindly lent us a tea house for the occasion. As we arrived at the perfectly tidy entrance, a different energy seemed to linger.

“Why are those ladies even here?”