Sherlock Holmes - 1
Princess Is, whom I hadn't seen in a while, looked a bit more cheerful. Freer, somehow. Like someone who'd been carrying a heavy burden had finally set it down, letting out a sigh of relief with a relaxed smile. That faint smile lingered softly on her face.
"You're visiting after so long—can't you greet me a little warmer? I'm starting to feel a bit hurt…."
"…I'm actually quite delighted inside."
"You have to show it! Stony guys aren't popular, you know?"
"Haha…."
Cold sweat trickled down my back. I felt like a frog frozen before a snake. Even more than the Lazy King with his dragon's eyes, this 'Princess Is' struck me as serpentine.
"I'll make an effort…."
"Good! These things take time to adjust to. Anyway, I heard someone from the Haren royal family stopped by?"
"Yes. The Lazy King visited."
If she already knew about the Haren visit, no point hiding it.
"The Lazy King himself…? What's gotten into that guy?"
"Do you know him well?"
"No. Well, sort of? I only met him once as a kid, at the World Conference…. He's famous for never stepping out, so it's surprising. Hmm~."
"……."
Silence hung between Princess Is and me. Just as my back grew damp with sweat, she broke it.
"He's a fan, right?"
"Pardon?"
"The Lazy King. He came because he's a fan of Author Homerus?"
"Uh, well…. Yeah, he seems like a fan."
That wasn't his stated business, but… hmm. Even recalling it now, he was hard to fathom.
"Makes sense, then."
"Pardon?"
"You can't fight fandom. Hehe. Still, I'm your first fan and patron, got it?"
"…Yes."
Are all royals and imperials this unpredictable? Tension easing, I leaned back against the chair.
"Ah, you're relaxing now!"
"Y-yeah…. Sort of…."
"Much better. Stay comfy like that from now on. Heck, lie down on the sofa if you want."
"Doing that in front of imperial royalty might be a bit… inappropriate, no?"
"Is it? I don't mind."
That's the problem—I do.
"Anyway, did you come to ask about the Haren visit?"
"Nah? Well, partly, hmm~."
She tapped her cheek thoughtfully, then continued in a humming tone.
"Hamlet—you wrote that to criticize my dad, right?"
"Pardon?"
"My father… I mean, the current Emperor."
"No."
Instant denial. I'm no fool—why would I write something slamming the Emperor? Even in this constitutional monarchy, lèse-majesté is still very much alive. The law may be equal, but classes aren't. The sole reason I plagiarize past-life literature is one: literature's advancement. So I can enjoy more of it. Nothing more.
"Okay, good."
"……."
"I mean, if a play I enjoyed was bashing my dad, it'd feel off. Even if it's just rumors, it bugs me…."
"Uh, yeah?"
"He's frustrating, but he's still my dad…."
Princess Is averted her gaze, blushing awkwardly. Oh. So not a warning about imperial insult—just daughterly worry it might trash her father?
"…Pfft."
"Hey! You just laughed at me!"
"No. Just… even royalty are kids at heart, I thought."
"Author Homerus, you're younger than me…? Ridiculous."
Even as royalty, by my past life's count, she's barely post-college age. Realizing that eased my mind completely.
"Anyway! What's next? Writing with your students again?"
"Hmm, still thinking."
"Or like The Count of Monte Cristo, serialize in a magazine?"
"That's an option too…. Hmm?"
Had I ever told her my 'Herodotus' pen name?
"Why so surprised?"
"Oh, uh…. Didn't expect you to know."
"I know everything about you, Author."
She flashed a playful smile. Hmm. Maybe staying a little tense is wise….
"Oh, don't sweat the donations! Reading your works is enough for me."
"Yes…."
"So, when's the next one?"
"Actually, I have something in mind I'm mulling over."
"Something you're mulling?"
"Yes."
From recent events, this world hasn't fully ripened into rationalism. Magic's civilizational boost has cooled religion somewhat, but magic itself is another mystery. It supplants faith but can't spark Earth's scientific rationalism.
"I'm thinking of a novel to nudge people toward 'rational' thinking based on 'evidence' and 'logic.'"
"Sounds tough…."
"It won't be. It'll be hugely fun… and popular."
"Aigoo, Author Herodotus! Welcome!"
"Yes. President."
"I'm so touched you visit this humble place! Sniff…."
"No big deal…."
The president of Half and Half hammed up fake tears. The Count of Monte Cristo's success must've impressed him. A pure-fun classic etched in history, after all.
"I came because I'm planning a new serialization."
"Of course! We'll clear a slot right away!"
"Not immediately. Need some research first."
Signature serial novels exist. Pure fun: Monte Cristo. Padded length: Les Misérables. Cosmic horror: Lovecraft…. But modern fame's pinnacle?
"This one's a mystery novel."
Had to be that one.
"Mystery novel, you say?"
"Yes."
Sherlock Holmes from Why Did You Kill Holmes?.
"More precisely, a detective story. So I need expert advice."
"Yes! We'll consult the Empire's top detectives—"
"Not that kind."
Episodes were set; I needed talent to tweak them for this world's lore.
And I knew just the person. Naming them, President Lian nodded vigorously.
"Chief Mage Cleang of the Grey Tower? I'll sell the publishing house to get her!"
"Then you can't serialize…."
He's cut from the same cloth as Dolling Kindersley….
Dear Sir,
I am Milli Cleang, Chief Mage of the Grey Tower. I'm writing because some depictions of magic in your work don't align with facts. In the story…
"Hellooo… I'm Milli Cleang, Chief Mage of the Grey Tower…."
"Ah, hello. You're quite different from your letter's image."
Panda-like dark circles, tousled hair. The epitome of a grad student. That was her, Milli Cleang.
She spoke in her slow, languid drawl.
"Letters have… formats, you knowww…. You look way younger than I imagined toooo…."
I wasn't using the Hide Potion now. 'Herodotus' would operate as my true face publicly. Looking barely academy-age, her reaction was inevitable.
"Ah, yes. I invited you for magical consultation to finish the work."
I pulled out her 'fan letter.' Not just magic nitpicks—it showed deep story grasp. Explaining Conan Saga episodes with how magic fits, clearly and simply. Preserving plot while ensuring accuracy. No true love for the work, no way.
"This impressed me deeply. As you see, I'm young and lacking in knowledge. I'd value your advice to complete it."
"Chief…."
"Pardon?"
"Call me Chieeeef…. Chief Mage or…."
Still drawling, but prickly now, correcting my address.
"I'm the chief, you knowww…."
"Ah, yes. Chief Mage."
"Chief is a big deal, you knowww…. Means top of the Grey Tower…. None of my peers can touch my toehold…. For real…."
"Yes. About the consultation—"
"Curious how I became chief…?"
"No."
"I'll tell youuu…. Gotta go back to my first day entering the tower…."
…Wait, this person—
"So… the Tower Lord spotted my talent right awayyy…. I was honestly burdened, but no choice…."
—talks slow as molasses, yet way too chatty!