Chapter 63: The Name of the Workshop

A week had passed since I’d met Damian again, and our first prototype was finally ready. Naturally, we gathered in the workshop’s conference room to examine it in detail.

Since I needed to verify it personally, the prototype had been made to fit Stefana: four types of bras and two types of shorts. We couldn’t very well have the workshop craftsmen model them, of course, so we had to ask Stefana to do it.

The first piece she wore was a full-cup bra designed to cover the entire chest. Its base was soft cotton, while the belt portions were crafted from a hybrid fabric of Esil and Bisil—strong, flexible, and gentle on the skin. We had also made one functional adjustment: the fastening method had been changed from strings to hooks, making it much easier to put on and take off.

“Even when I move, there’s no rubbing… and it doesn’t dig into my skin. That feels amazing,” Stefana said.

She began performing movements typical of martial arts and sword dances, clad only in the undergarments. In this world, ordinary underwear was fastened with strings, which made things tricky: tie them too tightly, and they would cut into the skin; too loosely, and they would slip out of place.

Her shorts, a bikini-style pair made of Bisil, fit perfectly. Unlike the string-fastened ones, they didn’t leave any marks or dig into her skin.

“Hmm, well done. Let’s move on to the next one,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied.

One by one, she tried on the half-cup bra designed to accentuate the chest, a sports bra, a tube-top bra, and the longer-length shorts. I listened carefully as she shared her impressions.

“For me, the sports bra and the long-length shorts felt the best,” she said.

“What specifically did you like?”

“The sports bra keeps the chest firmly in place, so it doesn’t get in the way during combat. And the long-length shorts don’t dig in anywhere—very comfortable.”

She didn’t need to specify further. It was classic Stefana, always prioritizing performance and functionality in battle.

From there, the discussion shifted naturally to design refinements and functionality. We also began talking about how these pieces could be coordinated with outer clothing—and, inevitably, some even brought up topics more suitable for late-night conversations. Stefana’s face flushed bright red at one point, and she tried to cover my ears—but it was already too late.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, steering us back on track before things got completely out of hand.

“I’m relieved that the evaluations are generally positive,” I said.

“I never imagined that just using Bisil could make such a difference,” Hodeliefa added.

From the perspective of a tailoring craftsman, Hodeliefa explained the challenges: where each fabric was used, how the elasticity was arranged from bottom to top or outside to inside—every step had required careful thought and skill.

“I… I’m sorry for asking you to do something so difficult,” Stefana said apologetically.

“Not at all! Until now, I’d only ever tailored clothes exactly to order, so this was really fun,” Hodeliefa replied warmly.

Hodeliefa had grown up in an orphanage, skilled with needle and thread, often repairing clothes for the other children. Fortunately, she had been hired by a tailoring shop after graduating, but because of her orphanage background, she was never entrusted with important projects—only the standard, formulaic tailoring work.

“Haha… I’m just glad you enjoyed it,” Stefana said, clearly moved by Hodeliefa’s passion. The intensity of her enthusiasm almost felt overwhelming.

“Since the construction seems solid, the next step will be to make prototypes tailored to our own sizes,” I announced.

“Our… own sizes?”

The women reacted in unison, staring at me in surprise. I imagined they were picturing themselves in their underwear in front of me, like Stefana had—but that was not the case. My interest was strictly professional.

“We need to wear the items ourselves and evaluate them properly. Otherwise, we can’t recommend them to others,” I explained.

It wasn’t just about comfort. We needed to test the durability of the fabrics, the practicality of the design, and more. Making something wasn’t simply a matter of “make it quickly and sell it immediately”—it required constant cycles of prototyping, testing, and refining.

“I’ll get progress updates and detailed reports from Rugena, so if you have any ideas or notice anything, let her know,” I said.

“Yes, understood,” they replied.

And with that, the first evaluation meeting came to a close.

After the meeting, I returned to the mansion with Stefana. Just as we arrived, Heralda informed me that “a guest is waiting.” I headed to the reception room, curious who it might be.

“Thank you for waiting, Damian,” I said politely

“Hello, Arthur-kun,” Damian replied warmly.

He was seated in the reception room. After greeting him, I took a seat on the sofa and waited for Heralda to pour the tea before beginning our conversation.

“Thank you again for the wonderful wine the other day. My mother and Rugena were delighted,” I said.

“I’m glad to hear that. That’s all that matters,” Damian replied.

The bottle of red wine he had given us had been completely consumed during a small celebration between my mother and Rugena. Of course, it was Rugena’s treat, so she could drink as she pleased.

“Before I give you the conclusion of our previous discussion, there’s something I’d like to confirm—would that be all right?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Who officially represents the workshop? You, Arthur-kun, are still a minor and cannot be the representative. And as you said, Felde-sama is a woman, so she wouldn’t be the head of the workshop either, right?”

Even though I hadn’t told him anything about my family, Damian said, “Felde-sama is a woman.”

That meant he had done his homework—he had looked into us thoroughly before coming.

“I’ll be honest because I want you to work with us. I am officially the representative of the workshop. But, as you said, a minor cannot be the representative, so we have a proxy acting in my place.”

“A proxy, huh.”

I wasn’t sure whether this was within his expectations, but Damian didn’t change his expression; he merely murmured the words.

“The proxy is… Vessel-san.”

“—I thought so.”

Damian’s eyes widened slightly before he exhaled a long, deep breath, as if releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You already knew?” I asked.

“No… I only considered it a possibility,” he replied.

Apparently, he had suspected a connection when he learned that Vessel had accompanied us during the bandit attack and that my mother had received a title from Marquis Vanni. He thought there might be some link to the family. That said, he hadn’t expected Vessel to be the official proxy.

“If you had mentioned Vessel-san from the beginning, I wouldn’t have had to worry so much,” he said.

To Damian, Vessel was a life-saving benefactor. Damian always treated us politely, even though we had only accompanied him briefly, and I knew that if Vessel’s name had been brought up, he would have helped willingly—regardless of his personal preferences.

But using that connection would have been coercive; it would have made Damian’s assistance feel like an obligation, which I refused to do.

“I want you to work with us, Damian, but I don’t want to force you,” I said.

No matter how skilled someone might be, if they feel they’re being forced to work, motivation and ambition vanish, and resentment may even lead to betrayal. I didn’t want to hire anyone under such dangerous conditions.

“So you value autonomy,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yes.”

Damian closed his eyes, pausing for a moment as he considered my words carefully.

“Alright… I understand. That’s convincing. Then I’ll give you my conclusion.”

He straightened his posture as he spoke, his voice steady and resolute.

“I want to work at your workshop, Arthur.”

“Yes. I welcome you, Damian,” I said.

Having someone knowledgeable about commerce join us was genuinely thrilling; our workshop had lacked that expertise until now.

“I’d like a detailed explanation of the business, but before that… what is the name of your workshop?”

Normally, a workshop is named after the representative, but we couldn’t use Vessel-san’s name since he was only a proxy. And since I wasn’t officially the representative yet, I hesitated to use my own name.

So, I shifted my perspective and named the workshop based on the goal I aimed to achieve.

“The workshop is called Facture.”

The name Facture comes from manufacture, reflecting the idea of handcrafted production in a factory-like system.

Why this name? I had long felt that in this world, alchemy belonged to alchemists, magical tools to artificers, and each field was rigidly separated. This specialization had created barriers between disciplines, slowing the progress of technology.

It’s good to aim for improvement within each field, of course, but I wanted to create a place where techniques from multiple disciplines could be combined in the pursuit of creation. That was the vision behind the name.

Whether it would succeed or not, I thought aiming high was better than not aiming at all.