How To Ruin The Original Work (16 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 6

Overwhelmed by mounting irritation, Nigel bit her lip firmly and read the next line.

[Of course, I have no complaints about you only seeking me when you need something, or disliking wasteful spending on appearances. But it’s different when it comes to Syenia.]

For the next two pages, reasons why Nigel needed to spend money on her appearance were listed one after another.

First, most people in Syenia valued honor or wealth, so they would judge Nigel’s worth by her outward appearance; second, shabby clothing would only draw unwanted attention in Syenia; and third…

Nigel couldn’t hold back any longer when the third reason appeared and flipped the letter to the next page.

[I know you won’t listen to me even after I say all this.]

‘…That’s exactly why I dislike you.’

Nigel swallowed her frustration and continued reading.

[So I’ve rented an entire atelier for you. The name is Ludin. I’ve already paid, so just show up yourself.

—Zeronin.]

‘How exactly do you see me?’

As if I haven’t been careful enough with money.

True, she’d managed each season with just a dress or two, but she always kept them meticulously clean and perfectly pressed—there was nothing to criticize.

Fashion trends existed merely to make those with spare money spend even more.

[P.S. Instead of writing a reply, go straight to the atelier.]

Beneath this was a simple map, drawn as if for a child.

One thing was now perfectly clear.

Zeronin still saw her as a ten-year-old child.

Nigel crumpled the letter she’d started writing a reply on and hurled it into the fireplace.

The paper instantly burst into flames and soon turned to ash.

“Thank you, Jerome. Thanks to you, the room just got much warmer.”

Nigel shot a glare at the fireplace and headed into the bathroom.

[This is the timeline separator]

Washing with cold water refreshed both her body and mind.

Nigel sat near the fireplace, drying her long black hair with a towel, and organized her schedule for the day.

‘First, go to the post office to send the letter to the orphanage, then visit that atelier—Ludin or Rodin, whatever—and after lunch, head to Evans Trading Company’s bank.’

Unlike Tilin, the imperial capital Soleph, situated in the heart of the empire, saw the sun rise in an instant.

Sunlight streaming through the window stung Nigel’s eyes, causing her to instinctively frown.

‘I won’t be needing a scarf much longer here…’

Nigel tightened her scarf securely and headed downstairs.

“Oh, did you sleep well? Yesterday you looked half-dead, yet you’re up first today!”

A cheerful young woman, around Nigel’s age and with a pleasant face, greeted her warmly.

“Will you have breakfast, or head straight outside?”

The rich aroma of soup drifting from afar tickled Nigel’s nose, halting her steps—she quietly slipped into an empty seat instead.

“Aha! My mom just made that soup—if you smell it, you can’t possibly refuse it! Wait right here; I’ll bring it out in a flash!”

Soon, a steaming bowl of thick soup, a warm loaf of bread, and a glass of vibrantly colored fruit juice appeared before her.

“The juice is on the house—Mom insisted. She said you look too young to be working so hard and feels sorry for you.”

From the kitchen, a kindly-looking woman winked at Nigel.

“…Please be sure to thank her for me.”

Nigel gave a slight bow as she spoke.

“Oh, don’t mention it! If you really want to thank us, just finish every bite on your plate. Not that you’d need to be told—Mom’s cooking is delicious enough on its own!”

“Yes.”

Nigel lifted her spoon and took a sip of the hot soup.

“…!”

The soup was richly flavorful yet perfectly seasoned, the bread soft and nutty inside, and the juice cleansed the palate—this was the perfect breakfast.

“Hehe! The cook feels truly appreciated—you eat with such satisfying earnestness. You don’t seem like someone from the capital, though…”

“I’m from Tilin, in the North.”

“Tilin? That freezing place where it snows half the year? No wonder you’re the one taking cold baths in this weather!”

“…At least summers are cool there.”

Nigel casually brushed back her slightly damp hair.

“Well, every downside has its upside, just like our inn—fantastic food but somewhat lacking rooms!”

“Uh…”

Nigel rolled her eyes, unable to find a suitable reply.

“It was just a joke—no need to answer! Haha. But next time you bathe, ask for hot water. You’ll catch a cold!”

“I will. Please tell your mother the food was delicious.”

“Got it. Take care out there! Oh, your name?”

“Nigel.”

“I’m Andy! By the way, dinner here is even better.”

It was an invitation that naturally called for an early return.

“See you later, Nigel!”

Nigel stepped out of the inn, warmed by Andy’s kind farewell.

The inn’s sign clearly read “Andy’s Inn.”

‘A good start.’

Nigel smiled lightly and set off.

[This is the timeline separator]

After paying extra to send the orphanage letter via express mail, Nigel pulled out Zeronin’s letter—more precisely, the last page—and unfolded it.

Relying on this simplistic map was plainly beneath her dignity.

Yet humans only grew when they acknowledged their own shortcomings, so Nigel gripped the map tightly.

‘…Not bad, actually.’

Unlike her earlier journey to the post office, she only got lost twice before arriving at her destination.

Indeed, the old philosopher was right: growth began the moment one acknowledged one’s inadequacies.

Nigel gave a faint smile and stuffed Zeronin’s letter deep into her bag.

Jingle.

A clear bell sound greeted Nigel first.

Inside the atelier, everything was dazzlingly ornate—exactly the kind of place Allen would adore.

Soon, a woman in extravagant attire emerged from the back of the shop.

Her outfit was so perfectly suited to her that even Nigel, who usually ignored fashion, began to understand why people followed trends.

“Welcome, Lady Nigel. I am Madam Ludin—I’ve been awaiting your visit.”

“Uh…”

“Oh! My apologies. Your elder brother reserved the entire week. He didn’t mention it?”

Whether Zeronin poured money into rivers or buried it in barren ground was none of Nigel’s concern.

What mattered far more was…

“…Elder brother?”

The utterly unbearable word slipped out of Nigel’s mouth in disbelief.

“Ohoho! It seems you’ve been given a surprise gift—don’t be so embarrassed, Lady. Your elder brother was so considerate that I, Madam Ludin, have never met such a thoughtful gentleman since opening this atelier! Ohoho!”

“My elder brother…”

“Oh, this isn’t the time for that! First, let me show you the outfits I’ve prepared. After you choose the rest, we’ll begin the fittings right away. Soo, Rina?”

She flicked her fingers twice, and two young girls darted out, practically dragging Nigel behind a partition at the back of the atelier.

When Nigel came to her senses, she found herself standing in only her chemise, being measured like some experimental subject.

“Madam, the measurements are complete.”

“Excellent! Then bring out the prepared outfit at once!”

Snap!

The sound of fingers snapping came from beyond the partition, and Soo and Rina swiftly dressed Nigel.

A white shirt embroidered with an emblem on the chest pocket, a blue pleated skirt, a blue necktie matching the skirt, a hooded robe—and more…

All before Nigel could even blink.

Soo and Rina beamed proudly as they pulled back the partition.

Clap, clap, clap.

Slow, deliberate applause rang out.

“Per-fect! This year’s Syenia freshman color is blue—what luck for all the students! Lady, your porcelain skin and violet eyes harmonize flawlessly with blue, ohoho!”

Nigel awkwardly studied her reflection in the mirror, unsure what warranted such fuss.

‘Well… not bad.’

Even Nigel thought she looked rather presentable in the academy uniform.

She especially liked the robe, woven from fabric treated with warmth-preserving magic—it looked sturdy enough to survive rolling around in dirt for days.

“Now, now! We haven’t a moment to lose—there’s still a mountain of outfits left to try, ohoho!”

After countless cycles of dressing and undressing, only the grand ball gown remained.

Madam Ludin seemed to absorb Nigel’s fading energy in real time—the more exhausted Nigel became, the more enthusiastic Madam Ludin grew.

“Lady Nigel, I’ve prepared three evening gowns. Please choose whichever pleases you.”

Ludin drew back a curtain from a previously hidden corner of the atelier.

Three elegant gowns were revealed.

“One was chosen by your elder brother, one by me, Madam Ludin, and the last inspired by the latest capital fashion. A noblewoman recently wore something similar to the New Year’s gala, causing quite a stir in high society, hoho.”

The only noblewoman who’d attended the recent New Year’s gala was the original novel’s heroine.

She’d worn a gown nearly identical to the A-line silk dress on the right, described precisely in the original text, and captured everyone’s attention with pure, understated elegance.

‘A crow imitating a swan will only invite ridicule.’

Nigel immediately rejected the cream silk gown on the right.

The remaining options were a lavish blue gown adorned with lace, ruffles, and jewels, and a sleek silver gown with clean lines.

Nigel glanced at the blue gown’s waistline—barely two fingers wide—and made up her mind instantly.

“I’ll take the one in the center.”

“…Just as I thought! An exceptional choice, Lady. Your bond must be truly strong—or perhaps your elder brother’s taste is so remarkable I should consider scouting him myself!”

…It absolutely had nothing to do with liking Zeronin’s choice.

She simply didn’t want to fall ill before even starting school by wearing something that didn’t fit.