The Imperial Palace
The Imperial Palace
Experts don't exist for nothing. Every job needs someone who handles it professionally.
"So you're telling me Snow White's profits have already more than doubled what I earned from Cinderella?"
It was hard to believe, but the merchant company head in front of me simply nodded as if it were only natural and leisurely sipped his tea.
And that was just the amount going to me after deducting their own cut. Merchant or not, how on earth did they pull in that kind of profit?
'Did they sell drugs instead of books?'
Only when my face showed I couldn't understand did the company head finally speak.
"The sales method you chose, Master Rupert, was excellent. Even I was impressed by it."
The company head suddenly praised me.
Of course, the method I'd chosen was copied wholesale from Earth's luxury brands, so to a company head who knew nothing, it might have seemed like I had a natural talent for commerce.
"Splitting it into hardcover and standard editions was already common, but even I never imagined this lottery strategy. Truly, such vicious salesmanship is... no, I don't mean you are vicious, Master Rupert."
"I know what you mean."
"Yes, well, in any case, choosing a lottery over an auction for the limited editions was truly a stroke of genius."
A lottery system was a stroke of genius?
Honestly, the only reason I'd told him to do that was because in my past life, I remembered buying NaXke limited-edition sneakers through raffles every time they dropped. I'd just copied that.
"If we had auctioned them off expecting high prices, they never would have drawn this much attention."
[Planting the illusion that anyone could own one was effective. It's not something you can buy just because you have money—you truly have to leave it up to the heavens to get your hands on one, and that's what drove the value up.]
Hearing it, it made sense. I'd suggested the lottery without much thought, but isn't the reason people buy lottery tickets basically the same?
The hope that maybe I could win too. NaXke, you scary bastards—big corporations really are built different.
"All 30 hardcover copies and 100 standard copies have already sold out, and the lottery for the 9 custom-made editions has also been completed."
"Good work. But shouldn't it be 10, not 9?"
"Well... about that one copy, that is..."
What, did this guy actually set one aside for a personal acquaintance? Or maybe he has a daughter?
"Haha, I understand. You've worked hard all this time, and since we'll be cooperating going forward, isn't something like this just a matter of letting things slide?"
"No... that's not..."
"Now, now! It's fine. I'm not some naive child. I have to consider the company head's dignity too."
Right, isn't it standard practice to call something a limited lottery and then hand out freebies to famous celebrities or influencers?
The company head had supported me wholeheartedly for the sake of the business, so I could overlook him quietly setting aside a single copy for himself.
But seeing his expression still not relax despite my saying it was fine, he must have felt quite sorry toward me.
He was a softer-hearted person than I'd thought.
"Ahem... if you insist, Master Rupert, very well. Here are the names and photographs of the 9 lottery winners, plus 1 additional person."
The envelope the company head handed over contained the photos and names of the young ladies who would serve as reference material for the custom-made editions.
"Hm... the last person only has a photo. There's no name or age?"
At my question, the company head flinched for a moment, then answered without hiding his trembling voice.
"The last 'person' has their circumstances. Please just refer to the photo."
That person? Did this guy take a bribe or something? From the way he talked, it sounded like a fairly high-ranking noble family.
Still, how much higher could their status be than the Bluewell Ducal House?
I'd already been entangled with a ducal house once, so no noble family made me nervous.
'To make this body tense up, you'd have to bring the imperial family at least.'
Even as I said it, the thought was ridiculous. Why would the imperial family order a picture book? If they'd wanted one, an order would already have come down.
"And this is a letter that 'that person' asked me to deliver to you, Master Rupert."
What the company head carefully pulled from his breast pocket as if it were some precious jewel was a single letter.
Aside from a rather old-fashioned-looking seal, it was an unremarkable envelope.
I took it and, without a second thought, tore it open right there and read it.
「To the author of Cinderella.
I do think your picture book is certainly a new form of culture that did not exist before. However, why did you not depict the fates of Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters?
They are clearly villains who committed evil deeds. You should have clearly expressed that evil deeds carry consequences....
From an anonymous reader.」
I'd thought it was fan mail, but instead it was a massive wall of complaints.
So even in another world, there were heretics trying to boss authors around. People really were the same everywhere.
But I wasn't some naive picture-book author. I was a professional webtoon artist—and, one way or another, a master who had drawn an ending destined to go down in Korean webtoon history.
'I'll ignore it with ease.'
I gently folded the long, heaping-bowl letter I'd received and tossed it onto the reception room desk.
The company head's face went pale when he saw me do that. But so what? The person who wrote the letter wasn't going to show up and drag me off.
"In any case, I've delivered everything I needed to, so I'll take my leave now."
"Yes, thank you for your hard work. Once the books are finished, I'll send them to the company branch."
The company head bowed at my words and hurried out of the reception room. Judging by how rushed he looked, it was almost as if he were fleeing.
***
"Company Head, are you sure we don't need to tell Master Rupert about this?"
Branch Manager Absinthe spoke to Esteban, the company head, who had fled the mansion as if escaping.
But Esteban shook his head and answered.
"He'll be more at ease making it without knowing. Telling him would only make him nervous."
Even as he said it, Esteban felt it sounded like an excuse, but he rationalized it by telling himself that Rupert had been the one to jump to conclusions and say it was fine when he'd honestly been about to explain.
***
"What came this time is different from last time."
Amelia Bluewell carefully unwrapped the package a household servant had brought and checked its contents.
A single old-fashioned book with <Snow White> written on the cover.
She remembered that when news came out that a new work was being released after the <Cinderella> she'd received last time, her younger sister Evelyn had been incredibly excited, so she'd immediately reserved it through the Yuren Merchant Company.
'My apologies, my lady. By the author's strict rule, we can only sell one copy per household.'
Amelia had originally intended to buy separate copies for her sister and herself, but she'd had no choice but to give up at the company head's firm refusal to sell more than one.
Amelia carried the book over to the table on the terrace.
It was lovely weather, with sunlight pouring down just right.
When she set the book on the table and opened it, the same beautifully illustrated story unfolded before her.
Amelia carefully turned each page one by one, worried the paper might crease, savoring the story and the art.
"How does that person come up with stories like these?"
It was delicate. Emotional. The more she read the picture book, the more she could feel the purity of the person who had made it.
How could someone capture such pure emotions in a book like this?
Amelia had felt the same with Cinderella: she found these fantastical stories—the kind you couldn't find in other storybooks, stories that touched such pure emotions—incredibly captivating.
A man with slightly wavy blond hair who wore glasses.
His face, his expression, his way of speaking—all of it had been so stiff. Who would have thought a book written by that man would captivate her like this?
'It would have been nice if he'd drawn me again this time too....'
Actually, this was something Amelia kept secret out of embarrassment, but even now she sometimes secretly took out the <Cinderella> picture book that had become Evelyn's treasure and looked at it.
Because in that book, she could see that the man had beautifully drawn a protagonist who resembled her.
Amelia genuinely regretted missing out on the custom-made edition, with just 10 copies being offered by lottery this time.
Couldn't she go see him like last time? She considered it, but that would be too rude, and more than anything, she thought it wouldn't be romantic.
She only wanted to feel the emotions that were conveyed without words, just like that time when he'd sent her a picture book depicting her without saying anything.
Before she knew it, Amelia reached the last page and closed the book.
***
"Ah, Ada ate the poison apple and collapsed."
Ada was sprawled out in front of my bedroom door.
Beside her lay an apple with a single bite taken out of it.
"Ada has fallen into a deep sleep. The prince has to wake her up!"
I wanted to tell her that sleeping princesses don't shout so energetically, but she was my cute little sister, so I played along.
"I heard there was a princess sleeping here, so I came to find her."
I deliberately lowered my voice as I approached Ada, and she squeezed her eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.
She was so cute that I kissed her on the forehead, and Ada pretended to wake up, stretching and opening her eyes.
"Ada revived!"
Oh, her vocabulary had grown already. When had she learned a difficult word like "revived"? Kids really do grow day by day.
Ada, now up, spun around in circles and grabbed my hand, pulling me along as she said we should go punish the queen.
Lately, Ada had gotten completely obsessed with playing Snow White, which had caused me plenty of headaches.
No, actually, it had started back with Cinderella.
'I want a glass slipper!'
'Ada, that's only in fairy tales....'
'Why doesn't Ada have a stepmother and stepsisters?'
'Daddy will work on that.'
Was that really something to say in front of a child? Anyway, these days she'd also been pestering me about wanting to see a white horse, and she'd often been spotted looking at the mansion's mirrors and saying,
'Mirror, mirror, Ada is the prettiest in the world.'
She didn't even ask the mirror—she just answered herself.
'Come to think of it, making actual toys like this might not be a bad idea.'
Isn't the ultimate endgame of any children's character business merchandise?
If I sold merchandise with the characters on it, little kids would drain their parents' wallets in no time.
I'd have to discuss this with the craftsmen.
"Master Rupert! We have a serious problem!!"
While I was playing with Ada, the butler Alain came looking for me with a panicked expression.
"What's wrong, Alain?"
"S-someone from the imperial family has arrived!"
What? The imperial family?!