A Change of Style

When Frederick walked into the dining room for breakfast, he noticed that Katie was looking at him a little differently.

"Big sister," he asked, puzzled, "is something wrong with me?"

Katie smiled. "Take a look at your cuffs."

Frederick didn't understand what she meant. He raised his hands to look, and then it dawned on him.

He was at an age when he was growing fast. He'd always had plenty to eat and gotten plenty of exercise, and the clothes made for him a year and a half ago had become too short.

"You need a new outfit," Katie said. "Let's have the tailor come by this afternoon."

Frederick realized his current clothes wouldn't last him until next year, so he asked Ah Fu to summon the tailor that afternoon.

The textile industry was still at the handmade stage. The wealthy wore new clothes, while the poor wore old clothes that had been passed down through several owners.

Frederick naturally wore clothes made to measure. His current outfit was made of fine materials, so they would send it to whichever child of a prominent family in Wessen Territory it fit. If it didn't suit anyone, they would see which wealthy household might need it.

But the family was out of money now, and silk embroidered with exquisite designs was too expensive. He decided to dress more simply.

Psyche's magic lesson was scheduled for that morning. The topic was the difference between mages and warriors.

Psyche put it bluntly: "Mages are damn good at magic. They can lift a stone weighing hundreds of kilograms and hurl it a hundred meters. Warriors aren't as good at magic. They can lift a stone, but they can't throw it very far, so they carry it around to work out."

Frederick understood. Mages used magic for ranged attacks, while warriors used it to strengthen their bodies.

"But those two things aren't mutually exclusive," he said. "Mages can use magic to strengthen themselves, too."

Psyche fell silent for a moment, then reached out and gently stroked Frederick's head. In a tone that was hard to read, she said, "People have limited energy. If you try to do both, you often end up accomplishing neither."

Frederick said, "Oh," then asked, "So what do you recommend I do?"

Psyche answered solemnly, "Train for thirty hours a day."

Frederick blinked. There were twenty-four hours in a day, thirty days in a month, and twelve months in a year—three hundred and sixty days. How was he supposed to train for thirty hours a day?

"You're still too young," Psyche said with a smile. "We'll talk about it when you're older."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. The most important thing while you're young is to build a solid foundation."

Frederick could only nod obediently.

Psyche went on to explain the principles behind training Mental Power and using magic to strengthen the body. She finished by saying, "Using magic to strengthen your body isn't something to fool around with. If you mess it up and something goes wrong... I can recommend you for a position as a eunuch in the southern court."

Frederick hurriedly shook his head and waved his hands. "No, no, I don't want to do that!"

Psyche sneered. "Hah. Men..."

When the day's lessons were over, Psyche was about to leave the study for lunch when she noticed that Frederick wasn't going anywhere. He was still there, drawing and scribbling.

"What are you up to now?" she asked curiously, walking up behind him.

As he drew, Frederick said, "I'm fed up with men's clothes as they are now. I've decided to reform them!"

The clothes worn by nobles these days were like the garish decor favored by nouveau riche back in his old world: all gold and glitter, elaborate and exaggerated, colorful and luxurious, dripping with high-class extravagance.

The clothes were made entirely in dazzling colors. Frederick's current outfit was bright yellow. Tailors seemed determined to embroider every inch of fabric with intricate patterns; wherever two rows of trim could be used, they'd never settle for one. They even puffed out both shoulders like round balls.

Frederick could accept these flamboyant clothes well enough, since he was adapting to local customs. But those bulging, brightly colored, skin-tight pants were absolutely beyond the pale. He'd endured them for years, and now that he was in charge, there was no need to keep putting up with them.

Psyche looked over his designs and gave a quiet chuckle, but said nothing.

The Weissen Family had once held a count's title and still had a respectable legacy. They even had an Epic Tailor in the household.

Romain figured it was about time the Young Master got a new outfit. When he received the message that morning, he'd already been rubbing his hands together, eager to show off his skills. Then...

"What is this?"

"And what is this?"

"What are all these?"

Romain stared at the designs Frederick had given him, completely baffled.

Frederick didn't think his designs were all that groundbreaking. They were simply in the Victorian style from back home, centered on shirts, waistcoats, jackets, double-breasted overcoats, and trousers, paired with bowler hats, ties, canes, and leather shoes.

Still, in this era, he might well be mistaken for a "punk."

"The clothes are simple," Frederick told Romain. "Use linen for the summer clothes and wool for the winter ones. For the winter lining of the overcoat, use fur."

Psyche, watching the show from the side, thought, Thank goodness this fellow didn't design a military greatcoat. Otherwise, this Epic Tailor would be finished today.

Katie had entered curious mode again and was studying Frederick's new designs.

"Are these clothes meant to show off your figure?" Her artistic eye was keen, and she'd spotted the point at once.

"The most beautiful thing in the world is the human being!" Frederick immediately quoted a passage from the Church of Light's scriptures. "Clothes and accessories are just embellishments. Leaves mustn't steal the spotlight from flowers!"

Psyche quipped, "And what kind of flower do you think you are?"

Frederick pretended not to hear.

Romain said worriedly, "That may be true, but the world could laugh at you for dressing this way. Perhaps..."

Before he could finish, Frederick spread his hands helplessly. "I'll be honest: the family's out of money. I had Ah Fu take the funds south to buy padded coats for the refugees."

The people who had gone to investigate the refugees' situation had returned. The refugees being driven toward Wessen Territory were in even worse shape than expected. At least two out of every ten would likely die along the way.

As the refugees passed through the lands of the nobles along the route, they were like locusts. They dug up and ate the seeds and seedlings planted for the summer harvest, and there had been countless clashes with the local residents.

For a time, both the lords and the commoners grew increasingly dissatisfied with King William.

That was also why Frederick was paying close attention to Dehydrated Food and had told Basf to hurry up and make the glue bags, utensils, and Waterproof Cloth. He had decided to take the initiative.

Romain knew nothing about these matters. He only knew that his lord had no money, so there was nothing to be done.

A traditional outfit for Frederick would cost at least ten florins. This new one would probably cost only two or three, saving enough to buy several tons of coarse grain.

The grain merchants all knew that Wessen Territory would face a huge grain shortage for a long time to come, and they had all wanted to raise their prices in unspoken agreement.

Fortunately, Frederick could use maltose as leverage, and the wolves ended up lowering their prices instead.

What's more, Frederick's cash reserves were nearly depleted. The bearings they had recently made had all gone into the carts on his own lands and none had been sold. He could only keep the money flowing by trading maltose for goods and selling Steel Ingots.

With Romain and his apprentices' skill, it took less than ten days after they measured Frederick to make him a new suit.

Frederick had just changed into it and was looking in the mirror when someone arrived with money for him.