The straw hat trend started by the Countess gradually spread beyond the peasant women working in the fields, rising from the bottom up until it swept across all social classes in Sardinson County.
By the time Wei Wei noticed, everyone—from serfs and freemen to the wives of wealthy merchants and even noble ladies—was wearing hats whenever they stepped outside. The style was uniformly based on the same round-crowned hat she had first worn, and curiously, it seemed like an unspoken rule had emerged: the higher one's social status, the larger the brim of the hat, and the more elaborate its materials and decorations.
Serfs and most freemen wore simple straw hats, adorned with makeshift bows made of fabric scraps or fresh flowers picked from the countryside. The wives of merchants, who could afford a bit more luxury, opted for burlap hats, decorated with colorful ribbons, pretty seashells, or blossoms from their gardens. As for the noblewomen? Their hats were made from much more expensive fabrics, with lace and colorful ribbons as standard, often topped with vibrant feathers and jeweled embellishments.
One rare day when Wei Wei had the time to accompany Dolores to shop in Dingle, she stepped off the carriage and, upon seeing the streets filled with women in ornate hats, nearly thought she'd traveled forward in time to the Renaissance era.
Luckily, she quickly realized it was just a fleeting illusion. Though the hats were fanciful, the women's clothes were still clearly from this era. Compared to their simple dresses, the lavish hats did seem somewhat out of place—but no one seemed to mind. It was as if the women were pouring all their desires for self-adornment—stifled by social norms that discouraged dressing up their hair—into their hats. When someone complimented their hat, the wearer would proudly raise their chin and stride past, basking in the admiration.
To be honest, the whole aesthetic was a little over-the-top. Fortunately, most of the women on the streets were freemen, and none were rich enough to afford noble-level extravagance. So despite the splash of color and whimsy, the scene never tipped into outright vulgarity.
Wei Wei, wearing a newly-woven bonnet with a large bow, blended in easily with the crowd. Her hat featured a newly added layer of veil—a fine net woven from flax twine. It didn't obstruct her vision when lowered but obscured her features enough to hide her distinctly East Asian face.
She'd gone to this effort because she simply wanted a peaceful outing—no crowding, no fanfare. The times had changed. If people recognized her as the Countess, it wouldn't be long before a swarm of merchants gathered around to pitch their wares, and that would put an end to any casual strolling.
To avoid being recognized, they hadn't taken a carriage bearing the Count's crest. Instead, they chose an old, plain-looking one, with their guards disguised as coachmen and one maid accompanying each of them.
All four women, from the Countess herself to the maids, dressed in deliberately low-profile clothes and wore veiled hats. With their faces hidden, they didn't need to worry about being identified. Wei Wei had been worried they'd still stand out—only to find that, ironically, everyone in Dingle was now wearing hats.
Well, it made sense. Compared to stifling veils, breezy straw hats were more suitable for the warmer weather. They were also cheaper—much cheaper—than traditional headscarves.
Their shopping trip proceeded smoothly, drawing no attention.
The excursion had been Dolores's idea—she'd run out of embroidery thread and expressed a desire to go out and buy some herself. For the shy, rarely outside Dolores, this was a big deal. She'd always relied on maids to fetch her supplies. Now that she wanted to go out personally, Wei Wei was happy to support her and made time to accompany her.
Dingle had grown into a thriving town. Shops lined the streets, and there were many new street vendors too—small merchants from the surrounding areas selling food and everyday goods. Since their customer base differed from that of the proper stores, the two sides usually coexisted peacefully.
However, with more and more stalls popping up, the already narrow streets became crowded. Add in the constant flow of carriages, and collisions between carts and stalls were inevitable. As these incidents increased, so did public complaints. Eventually, the town mayor and sheriff decided enough was enough. They submitted a report to Felix and got permission to cordon off an area near the town entrance to build a marketplace. Now, the street vendors had all moved there, and the town streets were much less congested.
Wei Wei took Dolores to a tailor shop to buy embroidery thread. The shop owner was still the designated tailor of House Williams, which meant business was booming. They'd recently even bought the neighboring storefront to expand.
Not wanting to be recognized and also hoping to give Dolores some independence, Wei Wei said nothing the whole time, letting Dolores handle everything herself.
The shop was bustling. The old tailor wasn't there—he'd been hired temporarily by a baron's household. Customers expressed their regret, disappointed they couldn't place custom orders with him.
A young shop assistant—probably an apprentice—hurried to reassure them, "The other tailors in the shop are very skilled as well," and began enthusiastically recommending others. These were all the old tailor's apprentices, already certified. Even if they weren't quite as good as their master, they were still competent—and cheaper.
Of course, most people weren't there for custom clothes. Many just came to buy fabric for home sewing. And thanks to the current hat craze, the most common purchase was small swatches of cloth for decorating hats.
Though the standard of living in Sardinson had improved and people were no longer shy about spending a little, shoppers still liked to carefully compare prices and haggle. The shop was full of voices bartering and gossiping—every woman's favorite pastime. Wei Wei, finding nothing she wanted, sat quietly in a corner and listened to the gossip. It was all trivial domestic matters, but for someone starved of entertainment, even that was a pleasant little distraction.
"There's not much entertainment around here anyway," Wei Wei thought. "And I don't exactly have the time to come up with ways to amuse myself. When I finally get a bit more breathing room, maybe then I can think about fulfilling my spiritual needs."
She turned to Qin and said, "Go take a look around too—you don't need to stand guard here."
Qin hesitated but agreed with a smile. She'd also planned to buy some fabric, so she moved off to browse the selections at the counter.
Not long after, a hesitant voice called out behind her, "Qin? Is that you?"
Qin turned around and, upon seeing the person, lifted her veil with a delighted smile. "Wendy? What are you doing here?"
"It is you! I was worried I might be mistaken," Wendy—Qin's childhood friend—grinned and pulled her into a hug. "It's been so long! I came to buy fabric to make clothes for Meriel and Jamie. You haven't met them yet, have you? They're my oldest daughter and youngest son."
"It has been a while," Qin said fondly. "We haven't seen each other since you got married. How have you been?"
The two were both nineteen. When they were fourteen, Qin had landed a post at the castle thanks to her family's connections. Wendy, on the other hand, had married young and moved to Uke Town. They hadn't met in five years.
"I'm doing well. What about you? I heard you're working as a maid at the castle. How do you like it there?" Wendy glanced toward the corner where Wei Wei sat. If she hadn't heard Qin being addressed by name, she wouldn't have recognized her—Qin was veiled and had changed a lot since they last met.
"I like it. The people there are easy to get along with," Qin replied lightly, then steered the topic back. "Last time I was home for a short holiday, your mother told me you had another baby—Jamie, right? I didn't get a chance to visit since my break was so short. Next time, bring them back to town with you and let me see them, alright?"
"Of course! Once Jamie's a little older, I'll bring them both. But you'd better prepare some gifts, Auntie Qin!" Wendy teased.
"No need to wait for that. Didn't you come to buy fabric? I'll pick out a few pieces for them as gifts."
Wendy's family had never been well-off, and her husband wasn't wealthy either. In the past, she rarely returned to Dingle, worried about burdening her parents. But now that her circumstances were improving, she was more confident and willing to visit.
"My husband works at the pasta factory now—the pay's decent. And Uke Town is building a new livestock facility. Once it's up and running, I'm planning to apply there. If I get hired, we won't have to worry about expenses anymore."
"I'm sure you'll be picked! You were always great at raising pigs—yours were always healthier than anyone else's," Qin said sincerely.
Wendy beamed at the praise. "Enough about me—what about you? Any plans to get married?"
At nineteen, Qin wasn't young anymore by local standards, though there were certainly girls who married later. Wendy asked casually, the same way Qin's relatives did every time she went home.
Qin's looks were plain, but ever since she became a castle maid, suitors had been lining up to propose. Her family favored letting her choose someone she liked, and Qin herself had no desire to marry anytime soon. After all, if she got pregnant, she'd likely have to leave her job—especially since she was still climbing toward her goal of becoming a housekeeper. She had no interest in marrying just yet, particularly not anyone who only liked her because of her job.
So, as always, she gave her usual answer. "I'm not ready to get married."
Wendy was about to suggest she reconsider but then remembered stories about maids losing their jobs after getting pregnant. She realized Qin's hesitation probably had more to do with caution than stubbornness.
"Yeah, it's smart to save some money while you can," Wendy said instead. "But if someone truly good comes along, don't let them slip away!"
Qin smiled and didn't reply.
In truth, Qin no longer had to worry about getting dismissed for getting pregnant. She wasn't just a regular maid anymore—she was now the Countess's maid. Personal maids were rarely dismissed for such things. If trusted by their mistress, they could even receive generous maternity leave. Qin believed Wei Wei would grant her that if the time came.
Still, she had recently been given the chance to study directly under the head housekeeper, a huge opportunity. To get married and risk disrupting all of that now? Foolish.
That's why, when Wei Wei had casually asked both her and Penny whether they wanted to get married, they both answered: not for now.
As they chatted, they both continued to browse fabrics. Wendy could only afford coarse hemp, and although her family was a bit better off now, she still felt that finer linen was too extravagant—especially for children who would quickly outgrow their clothes. She was focused on picking the most affordable, least flawed bolts of coarse fabric.
Qin, on the other hand, was far less restrained. Castle maids earned decent salaries, and as the Countess's maid, her pay had increased—plus bonuses and New Year's gifts. When they'd served Wei Wei closely during the festival, the rewards were generous. Now that Wei Wei was a Countess, personal maids' workloads had increased significantly, but so had their pay.
Before, Qin earned one silver coin and ten large coppers a month. Now, as chief maid and unofficial bookkeeper to the Count himself, she earned double pay: thirty silver coins—a gold and a half per month. That was the same as what Mrs. Bates earned when she served as the family's private tutor.
Only she and the steward knew her exact salary. The castle had long implemented a rule: no servants were allowed to discuss their pay, to prevent jealousy and conflict.
But even without specifics, others could tell Qin and trusted staff like Ward were earning more. How else could they afford such generous purchases?
This fueled envy among other staff, but also motivated them to study and train harder. They knew: the more you can do, the more valuable you are to your masters—and the more you'll earn.
There was no greater incentive.
Though Qin still sent part of her income to her family, she kept most for herself. Castle maids didn't have many expenses, so she had quietly saved up quite a bit. At this point, she could be considered a minor wealthy woman by commoner standards. With such rare free time, she intended to shop without restraint.
While Wendy carefully selected affordable hemp, Qin quickly picked out several rolls of finer linen and soft cotton, along with two bright red hair ribbons. Altogether, it came to several silver coins.
Wendy watched her pay, assuming it was for someone else. But to her astonishment, Qin handed her two full rolls of fabric and the ribbons.
"The linen's perfect for lining, and the cotton's soft enough for underclothes. Make some clothes for the little ones. The ribbons are for Meriel—she'll look lovely with them in her hair."
Wendy stared blankly at the expensive bundle in her arms, too stunned to react. She'd seen the shopkeeper total the prices herself—this was easily worth two silver coins. Her husband might not even earn that in a full month at the pasta factory.
And Qin was giving it to her without blinking?
Wendy snapped out of her daze and immediately tried to push the items back. "No, it's too much—I can't accept this!"
"They're for your kids, not for you," Qin insisted, refusing to take the items back. "It's just a little gift. Nothing worth fussing over."
Had this been back when she earned less, Qin wouldn't have been able to be this generous. But now? Two silver coins were just two days' pay—it didn't sting in the slightest.
Still, Wendy was too proud to accept what she saw as charity. The two began a quiet tug-of-war, arguing over the bundle, their voices rising.
Other customers and staff were already curious about Qin's identity, having noticed her generous purchases. Now, overhearing the word "castle maid," everything clicked. Lately, castle staff on holiday have been coming into town and shopping freely. Word of their pay raises had spread. No one knew the exact amounts, but their behavior said enough.
And here was Qin—not only buying multiple bolts of linen and cotton for herself but gifting them away so casually. Her status was exceptional—perhaps even better than some knight's wives.
Just as onlookers were whispering, Qin's attention was snapped back to reality by a voice calling from the shop entrance:
"Qin, are you done? We should go."
It was Wei Wei. She'd raised her voice to be heard over the crowd. Hearing her, Qin froze in sudden panic—she'd forgotten she was out with her mistress!
She quickly called back, "Yes, my lady! Coming!"
Then she turned to Wendy and abruptly shoved the bundle onto the counter. "The Countess is calling. I have to go. Either take this or return it—I won't be back to deal with it. See you next time!"
Not giving Wendy a chance to respond, she hurried off through the crowd toward the door.
Everyone in the shop watched her go—joining three other veiled women as they exited. Though their outfits were all modest, it was obvious who the masters were and who the maids were.
As Wendy watched the elegant, tall woman walking just ahead of Qin, a swish of black hair peeked out from beneath her veil.
Others saw it too. As the group left the shop, someone murmured, "The only person the castle maids call my lady… wouldn't that be her?"
They didn't need to spell it out.
The Countess.
"The Countess came to town?"
That one sentence lit a fire.
The tailor shop erupted into excited chatter. Some people immediately began reviewing their behavior, hoping they hadn't done anything inappropriate. Others abandoned their shopping entirely and rushed off to spread the news—intent on alerting their families to bring out their best goods since it looked like the Countess was on a shopping trip.
A few even followed at a distance, hoping to see where she'd go next. No one dared approach, but many quietly tailed behind, lingering at the same shops, careful not to crowd her.
Wendy remained in the shop, staring dazedly at the bundle Qin had left.
So… Qin wasn't just a regular castle maid.
She was a personal maid—the personal maid.
No wonder she didn't bat an eye at giving away such expensive fabric.
A shop assistant came over, hesitant. "Miss, would you like us to return these items?"
"…No. No need," Wendy finally said, hugging the bundle to her chest and stepping outside.
There was no sign of Qin anymore, but judging by the direction of the crowd, she could guess where they'd gone.
She stood there a while, then decided not to follow. Instead, she turned to head home.
"Next time I see Qin, I need to give her a proper gift in return…"
—
Meanwhile, Qin was stewing in guilt.
They had been spotted. People were following them, though from a distance.
"Forgive me, my lady," she said, mortified. "I should've been more careful."
If she hadn't answered "Yes, my lady" so instinctively, Wei Wei's identity might have remained hidden. With all the newcomers in town—including foreign merchants and nobles—it wouldn't have been unusual to see a few veiled women walking around.
But Wei Wei wasn't angry. "It's fine. No one's come up to bother us. Let's just pretend we didn't notice."
She was already used to being stared at. As long as no one came too close, she could live with it.
As for safety—there was no need to worry. The guards, disguised as drivers earlier, had now taken up protective positions nearby. Weapons in hand, they made it clear that anyone thinking of getting too close had better think again.
Still, their peaceful outing was over. Dolores had already finished her shopping and wasn't comfortable with the crowd's attention.
Before long, the impromptu shopping trip had to be cut short.
When Felix heard about it afterward, his thoughts turned once again to his long-standing plan—
It was time to build a proper city.
And so, he summoned the architect, Pierre.