Chapter 101
A week had passed since Aurora handed out the novel at the reading club.
As always, a salon was held in the princess’s palace.
“Your Highness!”
“Ah, everyone’s here. Come in. I’ve been waiting for you.”
The noble ladies poured in en masse as soon as they were admitted to the palace.
There wasn’t a trace of elegance in the way they came rushing in, breathless.
They gathered before Aurora.
“Your Highness!”
“Yes?”
“Where is the next installment of this novel?”
What they held in their hands was a slim little book: <The Terminally Ill Young Lady Declares Divorce>, which Aurora had given them.
Aurora struggled to rein in the corners of her twitching lips at their reaction.
Even though it was the response she had more or less expected and hoped for, she widened her eyes as if she were surprised.
“Why does everyone look so pale? Was what I wrote that bad?”
“No, not at all! Saying it isn’t fun would be absurd! I’ve never read anything that made my heart pound like this before!”
It had an addictive quality unlike any of the novels they had read until now.
They hadn’t been able to take their hands off the book for a single moment over the past week. The paper still bore the unmistakable marks of being read again and again.
“I was so curious about what happened next that I couldn’t even sleep properly. What happens after this? What if the divorced grand duke causes trouble again?”
“Have you already written the next part? Can we read it right away?”
“Everyone, calm down and take your seats first. Let’s talk over tea in a more relaxed setting.”
The format of this exchange meeting was always the same.
It began with simple greetings.
Sharing interesting gossip from the past week.
Then came an academic discussion, an exchange of intellect.
Only at the end did they discuss the main course: the novel.
Until now, this fixed sequence had never once gone awry.
Except for today.
“I never dreamed Your Highness would write something like this. I thought it would be a kidnapping story as always.”
“Exactly. I was shocked when I first read it.”
“I was skeptical even halfway through, but when I came to my senses, I’d already finished it. It felt like I had become Isabella myself.”
In a world lacking entertainment, Leon’s strategy was to go all in on stimulation with a regret-ruin-obsession story.
The morning dramas beloved by middle-aged ladies were also part of the regret-ruin-obsession formula. They were practically a tried-and-true hit.
As expected, the noble ladies’ reactions were unanimously favorable.
For people who had only ever seen bland, lukewarm things, to put it in modern terms, it was like drinking soda for the first time.
Once they had tasted dopamine, it wasn’t something they could easily forget. They were bound to keep demanding more.
“What did you think, Lady Blanche?”
“Pardon?”
At that point, the topic shifted to Gwen, who had seemed apart from the rest.
“The novel Her Highness wrote. Isn’t it terribly fun?”
“If it’s Lady Blanche, she’ll surely notice the parts we missed.”
“Exactly. Lady Blanche is the pride of our salon and a master of romance.”
“Ah, well...”
Gwen trailed off.
She couldn’t easily make sense of the situation itself.
It was a novel in which not even a speck of elegance could be found.
She had thought the noble ladies, who lived and died by refinement, would naturally despise it.
But to her surprise?
Far from hating it, they were all enthusiastically into it.
It was a reaction she hadn’t even gotten when she released a new work.
All eyes were on her.
At last, Gwen cautiously opened her mouth.
“It does have a slightly frivolous feel to it.”
“Fri...volous?”
“Yes. The sentences are monotonous and far too concise. That’s because it prioritizes readability alone. So it lacks lingering impact and artistic merit.”
“Hmm...”
An awkward murmur spread among the young ladies.
If she had had even a little tact, she would have read the room and stopped there.
“And the way the story unfolds is far too contrived.”
But Gwen was a writer.
A typical novelist who lived in her own world.
She preferred daydreaming alone to getting involved with others, and writing to talking.
In other words, she lacked social skills.
“It’s a structure designed solely to draw out the reader’s basest curiosity. It crams the protagonist into extreme situations like betrayal and persecution with no buildup whatsoever, and without even giving the characters time to understand one another or connect, it just runs straight toward the shallow catharsis of divorce.”
“Lady...?”
“Proper literature ought to portray the process of emotions ripening in a convincing way. To cut out all the setup and just hurl stimulating catastrophe at the reader like this is nothing more than crude, forced staging fit for a third-rate traveling troupe with no skill whatsoever.”
Even as everyone around her signaled for her to stop, once Gwen opened her mouth, she just kept going.
Gwen blurted it out without thinking.
“Literature is art. This cannot be called a work when it openly begs for the reader’s attention and doesn’t consider artistry at all. It’s so vulgar it’s downright unpleasant.”
With that, Gwen closed her mouth.
A suffocating silence settled over the salon.
Someone dropped the teaspoon they had been holding, mouth agape. It clattered against the teacup.
No matter how different their literary views were, and even if there were problems with the writing, this was the princess’s palace, the center of the Empire.
In truth, it was Leon who had written the piece, but outwardly, the novel Gwen had just disparaged was none other than one written by the princess.
And she had hurled abuse at it, calling it vulgar and saying it was begging for attention.
“Lady Blanche.”
The first to speak was the marchioness. She was an ardent reader of Gwen’s novels.
She was also the patron who had connected the otherwise unknown young lady of a baron’s house to a major merchant guild, opening the way for her books to be sold throughout the Empire.
On her face, instead of her usual kindly smile, there was a chill that made it hard to approach her.
“Everyone here acknowledges that your literary knowledge is exceptional.”
“And?”
“However, using that flimsy standard to belittle something written by Her Highness is unforgivable rudeness. Vulgar? Begging for attention?”
Only then did Gwen realize she had made a mistake.
“M-Marchioness. That’s not what I meant...”
“The marchioness is right. This time, you were the one who made the mistake. Does writing really have to have some grand artistic value? If it’s fun, hasn’t it already fulfilled its purpose?”
“I agree.”
“Me too. In that sense, this novel is truly excellent. I’d even like to show it to my acquaintances.”
Not only the marchioness, but the other young ladies and noblewomen also sided with Aurora.
Complete isolation.
Gwen’s bloodless lips trembled as she tried to say something.
“Everyone, please don’t corner Lady Blanche too much. Everyone has different values and priorities.”
Aurora’s languid voice instantly cooled the overheated atmosphere.
“She is a wonderful writer who has spent her whole life building her own world. Isn’t prioritizing artistic depth over fleeting amusement just the kind of stubborn pride a creator is allowed to have?”
“But...”
“It’s only that my writing didn’t meet Lady Blanche’s standards, so everyone, please don’t get so heated over it. Rather, I’m grateful to have received such good guidance. Thanks to that, I think I’ll be able to write something even better next time.”
Aurora smiled benevolently.
Once the princess herself stepped in and generously covered for the mistake, even those who had been bristling could no longer object.
“If Her Highness says so, then I have nothing more to say.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. We seem to have gotten carried away.”
“It’s fine, hehe. Shall we get back to talking about the novel?”
As soon as the awkward topic passed, the noble ladies’ eyes turned back to Aurora.
“By the way, Your Highness! So when exactly can we see the next story?”
“That’s right. If it’s not too rude, could you give us even a little hint?”
“A writer shouldn’t talk about a work outside the work itself. I plan to have it ready by the next exchange meeting, so please enjoy this time of waiting.”
***
After the exchange meeting ended.
After seeing the guests off, Aurora returned to the study.
“Leeeon. Big sister’s here. You’ve been good and not causing trouble, right?”
“Yes, well...”
Leon was sitting on the sofa, deeply engrossed in reading.
Unable to leave the princess’s palace without permission, the only thing he could do was read books like this.
Of course, he was only doing it because he had nothing else to do; there wasn’t a single book that suited his taste.
No book from this era was enough to stimulate the brain of a modern person soaked in dopamine.
“Did the exchange meeting go well?”
“Yes. Extremely.”
“What do they think of the novel?”
“Actually, they had a ton to say about that!”
As if she had been waiting for nothing but those words, Aurora broke into a bright smile.
“You know, you know? They all said it’s incredibly fun! They said they’ve never seen a novel this fun before!”
“That’s a relief.”
Leon wasn’t particularly surprised. He had already expected it to some extent.
It was basically cheating, so if it weren’t fun, that would be a problem in its own right.
“So everyone was going crazy asking when the next part would come out. The marchioness even suggested turning it into a book.”
“That’s good. I’ve told you how to do it, so you can use that as a reference and write the rest accordingly.”
“Huh? Use it as a reference? Who?”
“Obviously, Your Highness.”
“Me?”
“If not Your Highness, then who would write it?”
Leon looked puzzled, as if wondering why she was asking something so obvious.
After all, the one who wanted to become a writer was not Leon but Aurora.
Aurora averted her gaze slightly. She tapped her cheek with her index finger and blinked thoughtfully.
Then, before long, she finished thinking.
“Leon, Leon. Get up for a moment.”
“Yes?”
“Hurry.”
Aurora took Leon by the hand and made him stand. She led him to the desk chair and seated him there.
“Here, take this paper. Hold the pen.”
“Your Highness?”
A foreboding feeling slid down Leon’s spine. He looked at Aurora with a disbelieving gaze.
Aurora’s eyes curved gracefully into smooth arcs.
And then, casually,
“Write.”
she said.
“Your Highness?”
“I said write. The next part. Until you finish it, you’re not moving from that spot for the rest of your life.”