Chapter 154: William in English, Guillaume in French (8) After arriving in London, the members of the Ears of the Nation divided into three groups and busied themselves with their respective roles.
"…Hey kid, do you work in this factory?"
"Yes. Why?"
"No, I mean… how old are you to already be working in a dangerous place like this?"
"Uh… I've eaten four years twice… so… I'm eight now!"
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Florian, the vice president, moved through the workers along Denmark Street, where the Royal Arsenal and various factories stood, conducting market research.
"Your Excellency, I heard many skilled craftsmen came with you this time. Is that true?"
"The rumor has already spread that far? My, my. I wonder who's been saying such things. If you're interested, perhaps I could quietly let you know something."
Meanwhile, the president, Guillaume de Toulon, handled politicians and nobles—though to be honest, calling it socializing was inaccurate. It was closer to a merchant sweet-talking customers.
"What kind of leather is this made from?"
"That comes from buffalo leather imported all the way from Africa. It's the finest among premium grades!"
"Oh? African buffalo, you say? That sounds promising. If I place an order now, how long will it take?"
Inside the Ears of the Nation Luxury Hall, created by boldly renting an entire building in central London, the craftsmen and Boehmer smiled constantly as they sold goods that were like their own children to the customers Guillaume brought in.
And among these three groups, the happiest were undoubtedly the craftsmen and Boehmer.
"…If it's fifty pounds, how much would that be in livres?"
"Boehmer, thank you for bringing me here! I finally feel like I can live again!"
"Haha, this is all thanks to His Excellency."
How could anyone put into words the despair of craftsmen forced to watch the objects they created—each piece made with blood, sweat, and devotion—rot away in display cases?
Now those cherished creations were finally leaving the shop in the hands of dignified owners. For the craftsmen and Boehmer, nothing could be more satisfying.
But…
"Hmm. The layout isn't very good."
"…Excuse me?"
Apparently, the young man who had become Controller-General before even turning twenty did not think everything was perfect.
"Let's move the displays for bags and watches from their current position to near the counter. And place a full-length mirror in front of the counter. Also, the more mirrors we have around the store, the better."
"Separate the tables displaying upper garments and lower garments. Install a partition wall between them so customers must walk around it. Along that route, place eye-catching accessories—jewel necklaces, for instance."
"Move the wigs and bags to the deepest part of the store."
"Let's give the entire shop a more luxurious atmosphere. Furnish it with decorations reminiscent of Versailles."
With his hands behind his back, Guillaume de Toulon walked around the spacious store giving instructions to Boehmer and the craftsmen.
"Y-Your Excellency? May I ask why you wish to change the store layout like this?"
"It's simple. We need customers to stay in the store longer."
"I… see?"
Boehmer heard the explanation but could not understand why such a thing mattered or what effect it would produce.
Seeing Boehmer's expression, Guillaume smiled slightly and spoke.
"Monsieur Boehmer."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"The longer customers remain in the store, the more they are exposed to our products. Correct?"
"Yes, that is true."
"People naturally begin to think more positively about objects the more they are exposed to them. Even items they initially dislike because of their flaws begin to reveal their advantages after repeated exposure."
That was a principle every student of business learned from the father of modern marketing, Philip Kotler.
There was probably some psychological explanation attached to it in the book, but as a student more interested in results than theory, I had long since forgotten it.
"So tell me, Monsieur Boehmer. What product do our customers purchase most often?"
"Clothing."
"Exactly. Clothing. Then what will customers see as they walk toward the clothing section inside the store?"
"If we rearrange the store as you suggest… they will see accessories."
"Glittering jewels. French leather goods rarely seen in England. Isn't that enough to captivate their eyes?"
Why do supermarkets place groceries at the back and clothing sections along the path? Because it targets customers who pass by repeatedly.
At first they simply walk past. But after visiting the area several times to buy groceries, clothes and shoes inevitably begin catching their attention.
"Hmm…"
"Now imagine the situation from the customer's perspective.
They buy clothing. They love it. But then they remember the jewels and bags they saw earlier.
What do they think?
'That necklace would match the clothes I just bought.'
'That bag might go well with that outfit.'
Anyone would think something like that at least once. And among a hundred customers, at least a few will act on that thought."
Boehmer could only stare with bright eyes, murmuring, "Oh… oh…"
I continued.
"Now imagine the next moment. They reach the counter to pay.
And suddenly they notice something beside it. Watches and accessories.
'Wait… that actually matches the clothes I'm buying.'
Then they glance back at the jewelry and bags they passed earlier.
Some will stop there.
But some won't."
Boehmer was astonished.
First, because these ideas came from a youth barely twenty-one years old.
Second, because the young man's mind seemed filled entirely with monstrous schemes for raking in money.
But one thing was certain.
If I simply follow this man, I will never starve.
Boehmer silently thanked the decision he had made months earlier when he knocked on the gate of Ears of the Nation.
The young voice soon broke his thoughts.
"Oh, and Monsieur Boehmer. I have one more request."
"Yes, Your Excellency. What is it?"
Guillaume spoke to Boehmer, who looked at him with shining eyes.
"Spread a small rumor among the customers who visit."
"A rumor…? What kind?"
"That there is a young man suffering from lovesickness because he is in love with Princess Charlotte."
"…Your Excellency, may I ask why?"
Why suddenly mention a princess and lovesickness? Boehmer understood the reason for reorganizing the shop, but why spread such a strange rumor?
"Haha. That's a secret. You'll find out soon enough."
Ah, come to think of it.
"In English-speaking countries, the twenty-fifth anniversary is called a Silver Jubilee, correct? Please think in advance about what gemstone would suit silver."
Leaving those strange words behind, Guillaume de Toulon exited the store.
November 2, 1792.
Nearly a month had passed since Guillaume de Toulon and the Ears of the Nation set foot in England.
In London's high society, an unusual rumor began spreading.
"Viscountess, have you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"A young gentleman is supposedly dying from lovesickness."
"Oh my! Who is the object of his affection?"
"Don't be shocked. It's Princess Charlotte."
"…Princess Charlotte? But Princess Augusta is far more beautiful. Why Charlotte?"
"Love has no conditions, doesn't it?"
"How romantic!"
The rumor spread even during tea gatherings among noblewomen.
"Have you heard? Some fool is on the verge of death from lovesickness!"
"Hmph. If he's a man, he should confront it boldly instead of lying in bed!"
"The object of his affection is Princess Charlotte."
"…A princess? Perhaps lying in bed is understandable."
"If it were me, I'd ride straight to Buckingham Palace and request an audience with the princess! Young people today lack romance!"
"Well, perhaps Your Lordship has romance—but not marksmanship. Hahaha!"
It even spread during aristocratic hunting parties.
"I heard someone proposed to the princess! The rumors are everywhere!"
"Stop talking nonsense and eat your bread. If the princess gets married, will someone operate your machine for you?"
"Bah. Without gossip like this, what joy is left in life?"
Even laborers devouring black bread before returning to work talked about it.
A fresh love story between a young man and a princess—always a bestseller regardless of class or era—quickly made London buzz with excitement.
All exactly according to the plan I had devised using information from the French ambassador in Britain.
"Princess Charlotte is the fourth child and eldest daughter of King George III. Since childhood she has often been compared with her younger sister, Princess Augusta."
"Compared? In what way?"
"First, appearance. Charlotte is not unattractive, but Augusta's beauty is famous across Britain."
"And anything else?"
"Personality. Charlotte is shy, while Augusta is cheerful and lively."
"I see. Thank you, Ambassador."
"It's nothing. When the Controller-General requests a meeting, how could I refuse?"
A shy woman in her mid-twenties, often overshadowed by her younger sister.
And a young man who fell into lovesickness because of her.
Sweet enough to rot your teeth.
"Controller-General! Why are you turning my son into gossip in the streets?"
"Gossip? I'm not sure what you mean."
"The rumor spreading everywhere! If it concerns Princess Charlotte, it must be about my son!"
"Please don't worry. Didn't I promise to help you?"
I handed the nobleman a ring case Boehmer had given me.
"…What is this?"
"A ring for your son to use when he confesses to Princess Charlotte. Open it."
"What nonsense—"
"Just open it."
The case opened.
Pure white silver, crowned with a brilliant red ruby.
"The twenty-fifth anniversary is called a Silver Jubilee. Princess Charlotte happens to be twenty-five this year. Perfect timing."
A ring chosen after great anguish by a lovesick young man for the princess's twenty-fifth birthday.
And where did it come from?
Ears of the Nation.
Whether the proposal succeeded or failed, the marketing would certainly succeed.
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