The Abandoned Villainess Decides to Take It All Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Madam Rochette’s 〈Salon Rochette〉.

“Hah. I wrote that it felt stale because it was stale—what exactly am I supposed to do about it?”

Madam Rochette tossed the “letter of protest” from House Tillard onto her desk.

They’d phrased it politely, but the implication was clear: If this continues, the Five Great Houses will take notice.

Rochette might be from a collateral branch of House Boliver, but even she had limits to how much protection that afforded her.

She’d have to lie low for a while.

To begin with, there’s no one who can surpass Iris Tillard.

So this article would just blow over.

“…Isn’t there anything new?”

Just then, her assistant called out.

“Madam Rochette, a box arrived today.”

“What is it?”

“There’s no explanation. Just… ‘prototype introduction,’ apparently.”

“Haa…”

There were always people like this.

Trying to stand out among countless sponsored items with cheap tricks.

But the moment Madam Rochette saw the box, she hesitated.

A small violet box, neatly tied with a white ribbon.

As soon as she untied it and opened the lid, her mood subtly lifted.

Did they lightly scent even the wrapping paper?

A very clean, elegant fragrance.

Inside lay a pair of polished silver earrings.

The silver petals gleamed, and a violet control stone set at the center glowed softly.

At the end of a paper-thin chain dangled a butterfly charm—three-dimensional, catching the light beautifully with every sway.

And yet…

Everyone gathered around Madam Rochette froze.

“The left and right are different?”

“They don’t match?”

“Was this sent by mistake?”

In Pernies, earrings had always come as identical pairs.

At most, they might be mirrored versions.

But Madam Rochette picked up the description card and let out a soft, incredulous laugh—

The kind that slipped out when something was almost absurdly delicious or beautiful.

[Silver Spring]
[Target: Espers]
[- Designed for those whose ability side effects manifest on the skin.]

“One side is a flower. The other is a butterfly. On purpose.”

“……!”

How had no one ever thought of this?

“They’re calling it unbalanced earrings.”

Not only was the concept novel and the design refined—

“Run a safety test on this!”

Whenever artifact-related articles were written, testing equipment was always on hand.

A short while later, a staff member came running back with the earring case.

“It meets all imperial standards!”

“How broadly?”

“Usable by espers from C-rank up to A-rank!”

“…!”

Madam Rochette’s mouth slowly fell open.

This level of design sense and compatibility across multiple ranks?

This is real talent.

She shouted at her staff.

“We’re the only ones who got this, right?!”

“I—I’ll check!”

“Search immediately! See if anyone else got one—go, now!”

“Yes!”

Her staff rushed out in a panic.

“Just who on earth is this…”

Madam Rochette flipped the card over.

〈Mariposa〉

Just one word.

A self-employed person has to do everything alone.

Cleaning the shop, market research, sourcing materials, organizing, crafting, packaging, shipping, customer service, running one-day classes, and occasionally chasing out unreasonable customers demanding refunds…

Haa…

Just remembering it made Lillian’s precious blood pressure spike for a moment.

Even promotion has to be done alone.

She couldn’t understand how her past self had lived so diligently.

So this was why people said self-employment was hell.

Well—no one had stopped her back then.

Anyway, Lillian decided to use what she’d learned in that life.

Here, people still think promotion means explaining everything in person.

Have someone influential wear it at a salon, let nobles crowd around and ask.

That works—but it’s too limited.

What good was it if only the capital knew?

Lillian wanted more.

If she was going to shake House Tillard, she needed many people to know—fast.

And if speed mattered, newspapers were the answer.

So I sent it to several places…

Still, she kept her expectations low.

One success is enough.

Honestly, she hoped Madam Rochette would bite.

If it gets into Salon Rochette…

That was the most prestigious magazine. No one in the empire didn’t read it.

Wishing for a jackpot on the first try was greedy—she knew that.

But people were allowed to dream.

Lillian’s heart waged a fierce battle between humility and desire.

After a hard-fought struggle, humility won.

Lillian, happiness in life comes easier when you keep your standards low…

Even one article that needled Iris and House Tillard would be a good start.

She’d just made peace with that thought when—

People began rushing in and out of her room, scissors flying.

“Here—another article!”

“Where do we paste this illustration?”

“Over here!”

Margaret and Jeanne were directing the work.

Even some of the Shadows had joined in.

Watching elite combatants waste their talents on scrapbook duty was… surreal.

Lillian stood there, dazed.

“…Huh…?”

And then she saw the number of articles—and their headlines.

Most shocking of all was 〈Salon Rochette〉.

“My lady! This is incredible!”

Margaret held up the neatly mounted clippings, eyes shining.

“Fifty articles! Fifty!”

“…Huh.”

“Should we enlarge the Salon Rochette piece and make it wall decor?”

“…Huh.”

“Got it! I’ll commission an artisan for it!”

She felt dizzy.

Unlike her previous world, flooded with low-quality media,

Pernies still deeply trusted print journalism.

A first appearance—without a single negative review—was extraordinary.

But then—

“Margaret, something’s strange.”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t send out fifty.”

“What?”

“With my materials, I only made enough to seed—uh, gift—to six places.”

Given the cost and time, that was the limit.

They were all handmade.

“So where did the other forty-six come from?”

Madam Rochette and the other five outlets that had initially received the seeded items were all on edge.

So Rochette got one too?
Then we have to break the story first!
We were the only ones, right? Surely?

But the intense enthusiasm gave them away.

Hovering around competitors to see whether they’d received a mysterious, sender-less item?

That just looked suspicious.

“What’s going on? Why is that rookie snooping around?”

And in any era, in any place—

Rookies were terrible at hiding it.

The outlets that caught on immediately began preparing to copy.