The Fate of the Bestseller Author
"Heh, hehihi..."
The young lady standing before me was Duke Quiliar's daughter.
Realizing that didn't change my current situation one bit.
...At least, not right now. She was just some new person I'd never even imagined encountering before.
My mistake had been assuming that anyone under the protection of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau had to be a member of the imperial family. I never thought it might just be the child of some high-ranking noble.
Especially not the only daughter of the Intelligence Chief himself—the man who commanded the empire's sharpest blades. She was practically his sole weakness.
"Sh-Shall we... g-go to a c-cafe...?"
"...".
"...".
There was no real reason to refuse. Among the three of us, she was the only one who seemed to have her wits about her.
I had no idea what she planned to do with me, and Kiara... well, who the hell knows.
This neighborhood was packed with salons, so naturally, there were cafes aplenty. We shuffled awkwardly to one and took our seats, at which point I sensed a faint presence nearby.
"...".
What a shitty disguise job.
They weren't from the Intelligence Bureau, so they were probably just Kiara's guards. Nothing too suspicious about that.
One thing was clear, though: we had more than a couple of protectors watching our backs. Not that it mattered when those blades might come slicing for my throat at any moment.
For now, I forced myself to relax and opened my mouth.
"...I got your letter."
"L-Letter...?"
Kiara's reaction. Opheli already knew since she'd sent it, so I added an explanation just for her.
"Yes. It said to come in my academy uniform, so..."
"Th-That was my letter...!"
"...".
"I n-never dreamed you'd actually w-wait in f-front of the Intelligence Bureau building... hehe..."
"...I couldn't exactly refuse a letter from someone of such high standing."
I flicked my gaze briefly to Opheli, then back to Kiara. She picked up on the subtle tension between Opheli and me, her eyes clouding with suspicion.
"...Hold on. You two know each other?"
"Of c-course we dooo..."
"First time meeting."
Our answers clashed. My eyes, which had been on my fiancée, snapped reflexively to Opheli.
The fuck? This is our first meeting, so why the hell are you acting like it's not?
"W-We know each other, r-right...?"
"...Sorry, but I've only heard your name before."
"Th-That's weird..."
Her unkempt hair hid her expression, but I could still read the vibe. She seemed more flustered than anything.
At least that meant she wasn't trying to blackmail me or anything.
"You... g-graduated top of the a-academy, didn't you...?"
"...Yes."
"And you're t-turning adult this y-year...?"
"Yes. That's right."
"Wha...? That's s-strange... It m-matches perfectly..."
"...Not from the academy?"
"Y-Yeah... I s-saw you at the academy...?"
"...".
I'd spent my academy days sparring with every damn thing in sight just to get my dopamine fix, so yeah, my face must've gotten around.
That explained how she knew me, but nothing else.
Still, I'm not the type to forget noble students' faces. I'd clocked her as Opheli de Quiliar on sight, even without ever seeing her before.
"Have you... s-seen this drawing b-before...?"
She pulled a sheet of paper from somewhere in her dress. I hesitated for a second before taking it from her.
A faint milky scent wafted from it, which was off-putting as hell, but the content itself seemed harmless enough. Thank god.
"...!"
That said, it wasn't exactly meaningless either.
This drawing. The art style matched the one I'd seen before, perfectly.
The illustration that arrived with the letter at my territory.
The one I'd glimpsed by chance at the academy.
And now this.
Opheli had drawn them all. That much was obvious.
"...".
But my mind kept circling back to ugly thoughts, making it hard to accept outright.
The problem? Letters weren't the only things that'd flown my way.
Does that mean the pussy print was from this girl too?
I still remembered every detail.
The tightly sealed labia majora. The clit peeking out like a dewdrop at the tip. The ink-smeared darkness between her thighs and crotch, thick and vivid.
When I first saw it, I'd thought of a macaron first and foremost—a pussy straight out of a drawing.
If I hadn't seen Kiara's, I might've believed it was the most beautiful in the world.
...Of course, if it turned out to belong to Opheli de Quiliar, that'd be pretty damn awkward.
Seeing her pussy before her face? How the hell was I supposed to treat her now?
No, more importantly—what the fuck made her send me a pussy print in the first place?
Was this even reality? Did people like this actually exist?
I'd seen romance fantasies dumb down their worlds to make everyone idiots, but was this one the same?
"M-Maybe... we were in the s-same department?"
"No."
Kiara's question? Easy to answer on the spot.
I might've been a loner or a social butterfly depending on the day, but this wasn't about that.
"...Looking back, it's embarrassing to say out loud, but I enrolled in the academy to do what I wanted."
"...Pardon?"
"People who graduate talk about swinging swords or casting spells, but they rarely say they actually learned anything. Me? I went there to learn the sword for real."
Most of the empire didn't even know where Vallancien Territory was, and if they did, it was only because of the bookbinders. For a backwater noble like me, what obligations could there possibly be?
I just wanted to learn the sword, so I enrolled. Simple as that.
"But you're different, Lady Quiliar."
"Hehe..."
"...People of your esteemed status usually don't learn anything substantial at the academy."
They say it's because they lack the aptitude. Truth is, it's more like they don't want to educate ambitious nobles only for them to cause trouble later.
"Imperial studies. Etiquette. Flower arranging. Tea ceremony."
That's about all they can safely teach nobles at the academy.
"...I imagine that's what you studied, Lady Quiliar."
"Y-You really know your s-stuff...?"
"...".
I had to. Every noble who'd bitched me out in my early academy days was taking that crap.
"Y-Yeah. I only t-took imperial studies, th-though..."
"...".
"B-But I loved using m-magic. I even a-audited a few classes... hehe..."
Opheli's stammering reply didn't exactly scream stability. As I eyed her warily, wondering if she'd say something crazy next...
"I didn't get a d-degree, but... I can do this...?"
She reached across the table. A flicker of light danced in my vision, and the mana I sensed was no joke.
My instincts screamed: Magic activated.
Sizzle—
A rift tore open in the air, and something splatted onto the table.
"Eek...!"
Kiara barely stifled a scream, recoiling. Her face had gone ghost-white—she was freaked.
"Heh, heheh..."
Opheli grinned darkly at her, fingers wiggling mischievously. Was she a sadist or something?
Splat. Splat. Splat.
Her piano-like finger movements controlled the slime, making it roll forward, back, side to side. Then it shot out a tentacle arm, waving it around at her command.
"...".
I shifted my gaze from the slime to Opheli.
That was some serious magical finesse. You don't pull that off without practice.
Considering her family... it wasn't that surprising. If this world matched the novels, her mom was a grand magus.
"Th-This isn't all... I c-can do..."
Snap.
The slime collapsed and reformed into some weird structure.
A snow globe? The kind where snow falls when you shake it upside down.
"...This is."
"A crystal orb... H-How is it...?"
This wasn't some run-of-the-mill magic tool. Unlike the usual cloudy, abstract projections, this was like a goddamn hologram.
And the formerly transparent orb now displayed a clear image.
"...The adult ceremony?"
As Kiara said, it was the adult ceremony. In a familiar banquet hall, crowds encircled the center where some noble figure congratulated the newly minted adults.
Whoosh—
It shifted. Now the academy graduation. The emperor on stage. Students representing the whole school stepping forward for their diplomas. Some with regretful faces, others blank. And a silver-haired guy receiving a sword directly from the emperor.
...That was me.
Whoosh—
Before I could speak, it changed again. A walkway that felt oddly familiar.
"...!"
Kiara's face twisted in shock. Mine too.
It was identical to the one from the banquet hall.
Thud, thud—
But the figure walking it was different. A naked woman who didn't resemble Kiara at all, striding boldly on two legs. And trailing behind her...
"...".
...someone who looked just like me, for some reason.
"Isn't this a scene from White Knight?"
"Y-Yes, it is..."
"Then why the hell am I in it?"
"...Y-Yes?"
She played dumb when I called her out. Her intentions were obvious.
"I j-just had White Knight show up...?"
"...".
"Y-You're just... s-similar-looking...?"
Bullshit. How do you make a text-only character look that identical by coincidence?
I barely kept my face neutral as I stared her down. She snapped her fingers again.
The orb had reverted to slime. Splat—
The boneless blob wriggled at her command, then vomited up a sheet of paper onto the table toward me.
"...".
Bad vibes, but whatever. I picked it up without thinking and read.
"Nice to meet you, Author."
Fwoosh—
The slime and paper burst into flames the instant I read it—another of Opheli's touches. It vanished without a trace, like flash paper.
Kiara, the only one out of the loop, stared at us in confusion.
...Or dizziness, more like, from her swirling eyes.
"What'd it say?"
"Bad joke."
"You're too much..."
Too much? That summed up everything she'd done.
As I pondered seriously, a chair scraped back, drawing our eyes.
"...Gonna hit the bathroom real quick."
She must've struggled to process the chaos. Leaning on a table still slick with slime goo? Gross as hell.
I could only watch Kiara's retreating back as she bolted from the cafe.
"H-How is it...?"
"...".
My thoughts were... complicated.
Her art was top-tier, and with magic, she could mass-produce it like a factory. If I played this right, I could flood the world with manga instead of just yaseol.
...But I can't read her at all.
That was the issue.
Why drag me to the Intelligence Bureau? Did she really just want to meet me? Or was there more?
With the power at her fingertips, she could kidnap me and turn me into a writing machine anytime.
Erotic creations were basically nonexistent here, and I owned the biggest slice of what little there was. Monopolizing me? Jackpot.
But on the flip side...
Me, specifically? Anyone who's created knows: you can't whip out art by beating someone like a mule.
"What's your goal?"
If I couldn't guess, better to ask straight-up.
She didn't even flinch at my bluntness.
"Wh-What're you gonna do about it...?"
"Yes."
"Heh... W-Who knows...?"
"...".
"I d-don't wanna lock you up... H-Hand you to Dad, and you w-won't make it out alive..."
Wait, does she mean—
"N-No real plans...?"
"...Pardon?"
...She just sent that letter because she wanted to see me? No reason beyond the pussy print?
...Actually, this was an opportunity.
I couldn't blackmail her with it, but I could steer things my way.
What I valued in her? Art. And magic.
Time to pitch that angle.
"Then let me make a proposal."
"...Hehe?"
"I'm planning to adapt my writing into comics. Think of it as stringing together illustrated panels with dialogue—like watching a play."
"I k-know..."
"And I hold your artwork in high regard. Can't picture anyone else bringing my stories to life visually."
"He, hehe..."
"So, here's my offer."
Honestly, a fan who'd gone far enough to send fanart—and a pussy print—wasn't turning this down.
"Will you be the artist for my stories?"
"Hmm..."
She stared at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—was she pretending to mull it over, or toying with me? Her mouth hung slightly open, making weird noises, until she grinned wickedly my way.
"N-No...?"