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Chapter 5
The voice belonged to none other than Erica.
My sister-in-law stood with her arms crossed, eyeing Mari and me suspiciously.
“Lady Erica.”
I’d only been sorting dresses — starting with the ones she had given me — but her sudden appearance threw me off.
And with her, there was always the risk she might latch onto some strange misunderstanding.
I quickly rolled my sleeves back down and forced a polite smile in her direction.
“I was just organizing my clothes.”
“You do that yourself?”
Erica clicked across the room, slowly looking around my messy space.
Even at a glance, piles of dresses that still looked brand new covered the floor.
Before I could change the subject, she spoke with a doubtful look.
“This is strange.”
“What is?”
She rubbed her chin, deep in thought, and for some reason it reminded me of when we first had a meal together.
[I think it would be good to observe my sister-in-law’s behavior closely.]
[I find you suspicious.]
I quickly shook my head. Why did my bad hunches always turn out right?
Her eyes suddenly lit up.
“I’ve got it.”
Got what?
“You’re plotting something behind my brother’s back, aren’t you?”
There was a spark of excitement in her eyes.
She was half-right — I was plotting something, but I didn’t care if Martin found out.
Confident she’d guessed correctly, she strutted around my room once before stopping.
“This won’t do.”
“What won’t?”
“I’ll have to keep an eye on you.”
She stood with her arms folded, making no move to leave my room. Apparently she meant to stay.
“In that case… why don’t you help?”
Even if I ran a charity sale with her, there’d be no harm. I might even learn more about her.
The only concern was whether she’d cooperate.
When our eyes met, she surprised me by answering without hesitation.
“Fine, whatever.”
It was a very reluctant agreement, but that’s how Erica ended up working with me.
She even rolled up her sleeves, imitating what I’d done earlier, though the sight of a noble lady doing manual work looked… strange.
I held back a laugh and rolled her sleeves properly for her.
“How about this? You bring your own clothes you don’t wear anymore.”
“You know that makes you sound even more suspicious, right?”
She still had her arms crossed despite her sleeves being rolled up, which made me chuckle.
“Or anything else you don’t use. As long as you don’t need it.”
After glancing between the pile of my dresses and me, she seemed to figure it out.
“I’ve got plenty of things I don’t need.”
With her mind made up, she left the room.
She said she had a lot to bring, so I thought she’d be right back — but she didn’t return for an hour.
When she finally came back, she was lugging a basket so large it hid her lower half.
Mari stopped folding clothes and rushed over.
“Oh, Lady Erica!”
Erica waved her off and dropped the basket in front of me with a thump, looking very pleased with herself.
“Take a look. Not bad, right?”
“Let’s see…”
Curious, I leaned over to peek inside.
“…What is all this?”
Inside were tiny clothes — the size a young child would wear.
“What do you mean ‘what’? They’re my old clothes from when I was little.”
“You’ve kept them all this time?”
“Yes. I can’t wear them now, so I brought them.”
She looked oddly satisfied, like she’d solved a tricky problem.
“So what are we doing with these?”
“Selling them, of course.”
My answer was clear, but Erica only tilted her head, not understanding. Secondhand sales clearly weren’t common here.
“Who’s going to buy clothes that have already been worn?”
“You’ll see.”
While she looked puzzled, I told Mari to get a carriage ready.
Soon, it was waiting outside. The sound of the horses’ hooves as we set off felt almost cheerful.
On the way to the marketplace, Erica gazed out the window, absentmindedly fiddling with the basket she’d filled.
For someone with the “villainess” label, she was surprisingly cooperative.
We reached the bustling shopping district quickly — the streets were lively with people buying goods.
In the original story, Erica rarely came to such crowded places. On the rare occasions she did, she had to endure unpleasant gossip about the Cloud family.
Gossip really is a problem everywhere.
Most of it targeted Martin — that he was a young Duke who hoarded his wealth, never shared it, and earned much of it by immoral means.
Cold-blooded merchant… Honestly, from what I’d seen, some of it wasn’t entirely wrong.
But compared to that, Erica didn’t seem all that bad.
There’ll be no need to plug your ears anymore, Erica. I’ll change how they see this family.
People quickly gathered and whispered to one another.
It must have been shocking to see a Duchess set up a small stand to sell dresses.
Erica gave me a nervous look.
“Sister-in-law…? Isn’t this a bit much?”
Ignoring her, I wrote prices on cards and set them up in front of the stand.
You won’t find deals like this anywhere.
As soon as the price tags were up, the crowd’s expressions changed.
Brand-new-looking dresses at such low prices — it was tempting.
People glanced at each other but didn’t move. Even with the Cloud family’s bad reputation, I was still one of the few Duchesses in the country.
Clothes worn by a Duchess, still in style, for a reasonable price?
Of course, I wasn’t aiming at nobles — they’d care too much about appearances to buy.
But commoners? That was different.
“Uh… excuse me…”
Right on cue, a young woman stepped forward hesitantly.
“Hello, Duchess…”
“Yes, nice to see you.”
“…Is this really the price?”
“Of course.”
Relieved by my smile, her eyes lit up.
“If it’s alright, could I buy a few?”
“You have excellent taste. Pick as many as you like.”
With that, others in the crowd rushed forward too.
They stroked the soft fabric, marveling at the quality.
Once the first person broke the ice, the rest was easy.
Looks like a success.
Then I glanced over at Erica’s stand. It was quiet.
With her arms crossed and a stern expression, she was giving off an unapproachable aura.
“C-can I take a look?” someone asked timidly.
“…Do as you like,” she replied flatly.
Even when people tried, she made it difficult for them to approach.
If I wasn’t standing right here watching, she probably wouldn’t have said even that much.
At this rate, she won’t sell a thing.
I hurried over and whispered, “Lady Erica, do you know the first rule of business?”
“Why would I know that?”
“Because today you’re on my team. Want to try it?”
She slowly uncrossed her arms.
“The customer is king.”
“What? King?!” she blurted, loud enough for everyone to stare.
Smiling at the onlookers, I patted her shoulder.
“It’s just an expression. It means you should treat customers with respect.”
“I still don’t get it…”
“Try saying, ‘Welcome!’”
“Welcome… or don’t.”
Was she doing this on purpose?
“Why am I even doing this?” she muttered, turning away.
I sighed — maybe it wasn’t villainess DNA, just the habits of someone who’d always been treated like royalty.
So I left her be and went back to my own stand, greeting customers warmly.
“Thank you,” I said to each person, accepting their modest payments. Erica just watched me strangely.
Would she even sell one dress today?
Probably not.
Then, just as my own stand sold out and I was counting my earnings, a mother appeared in front of Erica’s stand, holding her little girl’s hand.
Erica, seated with her body turned away, gave them a bored look.
But then the child piped up, “How much is this? Mommy, buy this one for me!”
Erica’s head turned sharply toward them.
The mother, flustered, tried to pull her daughter away.
“S-sorry, I don’t know why she’s acting like this today.”
“Wait,” Erica said.
“…Yes?”
“L-look around if you want.”
Her eyes, usually sharp and cold, were unexpectedly gentle as she looked at the child.
Maybe…
Maybe Erica isn’t as heartless a villainess as I thought.
It was only for a fleeting moment — but in that moment, I saw a softer side of her.
