CHAPTER 807: CHAPTER 808

As the maid Sarah poured tea, she couldn’t help but marvel silently at the array of sketches laid out on the table. "They’re so beautiful." she whispered to herself.

Once she set the teapot down and stepped back, she leaned in to whisper to Edith, "These designers are incredible, aren’t they? To come up with so many styles in such a short time, and each one is just stunning."

It was beyond her sense of beauty. She knew that one couldn’t find such exquisite designs in any department store.

"Without powerful strength, how can they attract clients?" Edith whispered back. "The designers you see here, they don’t just serve any client. Money is not enough. They look at the family’s influence.

Take BT for example, Mr. Collins has to spend two million dollars a year just to keep this slot."

Sarah gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. Two million dollars? And with seven or eight brands represented here, the household must be spending tens of millions annually on haute couture alone.

It was lavish and shocking.

"These dresses are so expensive. I can’t even imagine owning one. Edith, tell me, do people really spend that much money on clothes?" Sarah asked, her disbelief evident.

"You’re new to this world," Edith explained. "Globally, there are about three thousand haute couture clients. They’re either from the billion-dollar club, royalty, or wives and daughters of prominent politicians and celebrities. What seems expensive to us is just a drop in the bucket to them. Clothes for festivals? They wear them just once."

"Just once?" Sarah’s eyes widened in shock. "All that time and money on a dress, only for it to be worn once? Isn’t that wasteful?"

"Well, the wealthy, especially during Halloween, love customizing all sorts of bizarre costumes. They’re also worn just once – the next year it’s all about who can be more creative. No one wears last year’s

costumes."

Sarah couldn’t wrap her head around it. "But the stores have beautiful ready-to-wear collections from brands, with designs perfect for celebrations, all for a fraction of the price of couture. And if they don’t fit perfectly, they can be tailored. Why wouldn’t Mr. and Mrs. Collins choose ready-to-wear? It’s so much more convenient and affordable."

Edith gave her a knowing look. "True blue bloods rarely go for ready-to-wear, except for everyday wear.

For significant events, it’s always couture. You might not understand this now, but once you’re part of that world, you’ll see why it’s necessary."

Sarah realized she was living in the same villa as Kenneth and Louisa, yet it was as if they inhabited different worlds.

"Edith, you know so much." Sarah suddenly felt like she had been living under a rock.

"You’ll learn, in time," Edith reassured her softly.

Just then, Kenneth approached his daughter Rosemary, holding a tablet. "Rose, Designer Rory drafted

some suits for me. Take a look and tell me what you think." He passed the tablet to her.

"And about our family outfits, would that be too childish?" Louisa chimed in, handing over another tablet, "Designer Eudora has also created a few just for me. Do you think they’d suit me?"

"Let me see, Dad." Rosemary took the tablet, expertly navigating the design software, swiftly tweaking the suits to an even more impressive level.

Rory watched, his eyes widening in disbelief. Rosemary had effortlessly improved upon his designs, elevating them to a whole new level.

Was she studying design? She seemed college-age—maybe a freshman? Yet, she was so proficient with design software.

With her talent for design, Rory wondered if she would consider joining BT.

If she was willing, she would surpass Rory one day.

"Great job! I love these revisions even more!" Kenneth hadn’t expected that in just a few minutes, his daughter had transformed his suits into something even more dashing and utterly unique, making them stand out in a crowd.

"Let’s go with Rose’s revisions!" Kenneth exclaimed with joy.

Rosemary was back at work on her mother’s tablet, first tweaking several of Louisa’s evening gowns into even more elegant and graceful creations, then reworking some matching family outfits into something heartwarmingly affectionate.

The designers were utterly astounded by her natural flair for design.

How did she manage to come up with such impeccable designs in such a short time frame and then sketch them out.

"Miss Rose, have you studied design?" asked Eudora, her tone a mix of surprise and camaraderie,

"May I ask who mentored you?"

"Our daughter’s reputation precedes her. You would definitely recognize her if I told you." Louisa teased, playing coy.

The room exchanged glances; they were familiar with the style, the capability, the level of proficiency, and a reputation that spoke volumes.

Could it be?

"A designer from LY?"

Only a designer from LY could exhibit such expertise.

But Miss Rose was an heiress, why would she work as a designer.

And apart from LY, what other domestic brand could possibly match.

"You’re half right," Louisa said with a smile, still keeping them in suspense.

Half right?

Was she really from LY? Or really a designer?

"Miss Rose’s design expertise is obviously superior to mine, so I dare to ask, are you perhaps the founder of LY, Queen Abby?"

The style of Queen Abby was just too similar to Rosemary’s recent designs.

The other designers were catching on to the possibility, all eyes turning to Rosemary as if waiting for confirmation.

"To be able to provide feedback so swiftly and to improve upon the work of all of us, domestically. I dare say, with all due respect, that apart from LY’s founder Queen Abby, no other ordinary brand’s designer can match me."

Louisa was beaming with pride, "That’s right, my precious daughter is indeed the founder of LY, Queen Abby."

The designers were even more shocked, to the point where their styluses nearly slipped from their hands.

How could they be qualified to design for the founder of LY.

Was it Queen Abby showing them too much respect, or were Mr. and Mrs. Collins just too gracious.

"My apologies. We had no idea you were the founder of LY." The designers lined up to shake

Rosemary’s hand, one after another.