Chapter 128: Perfect Dream Portrait Studio

Chapter 128: Perfect Dream Portrait Studio

Grantham District near the center of Indahl was an area predominantly inhabited by the middle class.

The two-story townhouses here exuded an air of modest affluence. Though not as extravagant as the mansions in the wealthiest districts with their dozens of rooms, these houses typically boasted around ten rooms.

Sixteen-year-old maid Claire, for instance, had her own small room converted from a storage space under the stairs.

At the first light of dawn, Claire awoke, swiftly donned her maid's uniform, and scurried to the washbasin in the yard to freshen up. After making herself presentable, she grabbed a basket from the kitchen and headed to the room at the far end of the corridor, adjacent to the living room. She gently knocked and called in a hushed voice, "Madam Wylie, I'm ready."

After a few moments, Madam Wylie, the impeccably coiffed housekeeper, emerged from her room. She wore a dignified blue dress that fell to her calves and carried a delicate handbag.

Madam Wylie critically surveyed Claire, her gaze lingering on the slightly disheveled braids with a hint of displeasure, but she refrained from commenting.

"Let's go," she said curtly.

"Yes," Claire replied, carrying the basket and following Madam Wylie out of the house.

Their household's master would wake up in two hours, ready for breakfast and to start his day. Claire and Madam Wylie had to ensure the master's shirt and formal attire were ironed by 8:30 a.m. and had breakfast prepared for the family.

After the master of the house was seen off, Madam Wylie's duties included ironing the dresses and gowns for the lady of the house as well as arranging the matching jewelry. Claire was responsible for washing the dishes and tidying up the house. If the lady wished to host a tea party, they would also need to prepare fruits and pastries in advance.

At six in the morning, the nearby Marley Commercial Street was already bustling with activity. Claire followed Madam Wylie to the market, where vendors greeted them enthusiastically, "Good morning, Lady Wylie! Come and take a look at today's celery. It was delivered from the countryside after midnight and extremely fresh!"

Hearing the greeting, Claire knew that a celery salad would be added to today's breakfast menu. Madam Wylie, who relished being addressed as "Lady," was likely to make a purchase if the vegetables were indeed fresh.

Indeed, Madam Wylie, impressed by the vendor's flattering approach, purchased two large bunches of celery from him, along with a few tomatoes and a head of cabbage.

Households from neighboring districts commonly shopped at Marley Commercial Street, though it was the meticulously dressed maids and housekeepers from Grantham District, known for not haggling over a copper or two, that were the preferred customers of the street's vendors.

Of course, they were more discerning than the housewives from the commoner districts, and only the best-looking produce could catch their eyes.

As they continued down the street, Claire's basket filled quickly.

"Why are there no fresh apples today?" Madam Wylie lamented, having inspected several fruit stalls without satisfaction. Checking her pocket watch and preparing to move on, she was suddenly jostled by a boy in a red cape.

Madam Wylie was about to fume but softened when the boy looked up in surprise, his rosy and fair face, clearly that of a well-bred child, flushed with embarrassment. "My apologies, madam. I was in a hurry to share some good news with my sister and didn't watch where I was going."

On closer inspection of the boy, who appeared even more refined than the young masters of their own household, Madan Wylie's irritation faded completely, especially after noticing his expensive-looking fine attire.

With a smile, she responded, "You must be more careful, even if you're in a hurry."

In this world, one's attire served as the best introduction. The boy's high-quality red half-cape with a hood, checkered waistcoat over a crisp shirt, and polished patent leather shoes indicated he wouldn't be out of place at a respectable tea party.

"When did Indahl gain such a stunning lady?" one affluent lady whispered enviously. "Which family's wife might she be?"

The strikingly beautiful woman, with her hair elegantly pinned up and a mature demeanor, didn't seem to be a young miss.

Upon hearing the comments, the woman turned her head over, her eyes twinkling with a smile that was both approachable and, more so, radiating pride. "Good day, ladies. The weather is indeed lovely today, isn't it?"

Hearing her voice, the chatting ladies, including Madam Wylie, were taken aback, their eyes widening and mouths agape.

"Y-you are Anita?" Madam Wylie's mistress exclaimed in shock as if she had seen a ghost.

Madam Anita lifted her chin triumphantly, basking in the glory of her transformation.

The shop door behind her opened again, and out stepped a young girl in a maid's attire, carrying a parasol and a portrait frameAnita's personal maid, known by most of a similar standing.

The group of ladies erupted in excitement, momentarily forgetting their usual poise and elegance, and crowded around in astonishment.

"Oh my gosh, it really is Anita!"

"Good heavens, Anita, how have you changed so much! We couldn't even recognize you!"

Madam Wylie hurriedly followed her employer, peering curiously over the crowd at the dramatically transformed Lady Anita.

As a resident of Grantham District, Madam Wylie vividly remembered what Anita looked likeshe had seen her only yesterday!

Anita reveled in the praises of the ladies, gesturing for her maid to bring forward her framed portrait, unwrapping it to show off her newly taken photoshoot, looking completely angelic in it.

"I had a whole set taken. There are even larger photos that haven't been developed yet, the kind you can hang in the hall," Anita declared in satisfaction.

The ladies were immensely curious. "Photos? Does photographing really transform you like this?" they questioned.

Anita touched her cheek with a triumphant smile. "No, it's merely an enhancement to capture a more true and natural version of myself," she explained.

She then eagerly began to boast about her unfinished large portraits, talking incessantly about their beauty.

Suddenly, Madam Wylie had a realization. She looked up in astonishment at the store behind Anita, her eyes fixated on the sign hanging above the door.

"Perfect Dream Portrait Studio" read the sign, and just beside the entrance was the address: Prant Street, number 063.

Madam Wylie quickly sandwiched her parasol under her arm and rummaged through her handbag for the business card she had received that morning

It bore the same address.