SLGAW 08

Chapter : 08

“Raise your head. I’m not particularly fond of pointless formalities.”

…I feel like I heard those exact words from a certain sharp-looking old man before.

I lifted my head and looked at the girl sitting across from me.

Emilia Rinter.

The only daughter of the Rinter Marquisate and a prodigy whose reputation had spread throughout Aldbania.

Naturally, I had assumed she was already an adult, but she looked no older than fifteen at most.

Her features were still youthful, yet remarkably well-defined.

Her sharp eyes, apparently inherited from her father, gleamed with intelligence.

Her long gray hair, braided neatly down her back, shimmered with an almost unreal brilliance.

Whether she was truly a genius, I couldn’t tell.

But she was definitely beautiful.

“Y-Your Ladyship has come to such a humble place…”

Ludwin, sitting beside me, still hadn’t dared raise his head.

Just like last time, he was remarkably weak when it came to nobles.

Probably because they were his primary customers.

I spoke on his behalf.

“What brings Lady Emilia to such a humble establishment?”

Fortunately, Emilia paid no attention to Ludwin’s behavior.

Since arriving, her gaze had been fixed entirely on me.

“You’re K.H, aren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I heard it from Father, but even so, it’s difficult to believe.”

Was it really that surprising?

At ten years old, I knew quite a bit, thank you very much.

Noticing my discomfort, Emilia coughed lightly.

“If I offended you, I apologize. I was simply surprised that someone your age could write books like those.”

“It’s fine. Most people react that way. Though I imagine you’re here because of my books?”

“Of course. When I read The Story of the Three Kingdoms, I had my suspicions. But after reading The Sorrows of Young Werther, I simply couldn’t hold back anymore. I didn’t expect to meet you here, however.”

The man standing beside Emilia, Dmitri, removed three books from his coat and placed them on the table.

The Story of the Three Kingdoms.

The Sorrows of Young Werther.

They had clearly been read many times; the bindings were already beginning to split apart.

“At first, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them as much as I found them fascinating. I appreciated the level of detail and careful thought that had gone into them. Although I never imagined the author would be this young…”

“I’d appreciate it if you treated me as an author regardless of my age.”

“Ah. My apologies.”

Beside me, Ludwin jabbed my thigh.

No doubt he was thinking:

Watch your manners. That’s the Marquis’s daughter.

But that was his problem.

If people saw me only as a child, having a proper discussion would become impossible.

Being trapped in the image of a ten-year-old wouldn’t help in negotiations or serious conversations.

Ignoring Ludwin’s warning poke, I continued.

“The Story of the Three Kingdoms is a work I reconstructed using various classical texts, inspired by stories I saw in dreams and imagined. Since it deals with a fictional world, I tried to write it as though I were recording actual history in order to give it a sense of realism.”

I understood perfectly well that a ten-year-old writing such a story made no sense.

That’s why I had prepared an explanation long ago.

No one could possibly know about the library.

This excuse was good enough.

“Indeed. I could see traces of classical literature in some of the characters. Yet your reinterpretations and unfamiliar descriptions gave the story a unique flavor. Although, regarding the battle scenes, don’t you think some aspects were somewhat exaggerated?”

“Thank you for noticing. While there may be a gap between reality and fiction, I believed bold distortions were necessary to fully realize the scale I envisioned. And—”

She really had enjoyed The Story of the Three Kingdoms.

We had originally intended to discuss Werther, but before either of us realized it, we were enthusiastically debating the Three Kingdoms instead.

She was clearly intelligent.

The questions she raised struck directly at the story’s weaknesses.

Or rather, at the sections I had deliberately condensed or edited.

Fortunately, my answers were equally ready.

I had already considered those issues countless times while writing.

It became a strangely satisfying exchange.

She attacked.

I defended.

And both of us enjoyed it.

From an outside perspective, however…

“Um… doesn’t this conversation seem a little… intense?”

“Perhaps I should bring some tea?”

Ludwin beside me and Dmitri beside Emilia both looked increasingly nervous.

Only then did Emilia seem to realize how heated things had become.

“Forgive me. I didn’t come here to discuss this, but I got carried away.”

She cleared her throat, her cheeks slightly red.

Perfect timing.

I smiled gently.

“I think you’ve sufficiently demonstrated how much you value my work. In that case, regarding Marquis Rinter’s request to halt publication of The Story of the Three Kingdoms…”

Normally, it would have been difficult to raise the issue so directly.

But after discussing the novel so passionately, now was the ideal opportunity.

If I could secure confirmation that publication would resume—

“Oh, I’d prefer if The Story of the Three Kingdoms remained unpublished. In fact, I’m the one who asked Father to stop it in the first place.”

“…What?”

For a moment, both Ludwin and I stared at her speechlessly.

Just moments ago she had been acting like the novel’s biggest fan.

Now she once again resembled the sharp, confident noblewoman I’d first met.

So this was the reason.

I had wondered why Marquis Rinter, who seemed unconcerned with the opinions of other nobles, had made such a decision.

As they say, the culprit is always close at hand.

So she’s separating personal enjoyment from public policy.

Definitely her father’s daughter.

Suppressing a sigh, I asked:

“May I ask why?”

“I acknowledge that The Story of the Three Kingdoms is an excellent novel. But it’s too extreme.”

“Extreme?”

“Yes. Books are culture. And culture develops in stages. The people have not yet acquired sufficient education or cultural maturity. Right now, the violent and satirical elements in your novel could become poison.”

Her voice carried the confidence of someone raised as the daughter of a distinguished noble family.

The confidence of education.

The confidence of refinement.

“Poison?”

“Yes. People like me, and other nobles, can appreciate the positive aspects of the story and selectively absorb them because we’ve spent our lives immersed in culture. But what about commoners who have spent their entire lives distant from literature? Can they properly process stories involving rebellion, familial betrayal, and the burning of a capital?”

The discomfort I’d vaguely sensed finally clicked into place.

Emilia Rinter genuinely loved culture.

Respected it.

Enjoyed it.

But because of that, she viewed culture as something belonging primarily to the educated.

The problem is… she’s not entirely wrong.

Most commoners in this world barely had time to enjoy culture at all.

Even The Story of the Three Kingdoms had initially spread among mercenaries and knights before reaching the broader public.

And she was the Marquis’s daughter.

Someone a commoner like me could never openly oppose.

So logically…

I should simply nod, accept her decision, and write something else.

I had an almost limitless number of books available to me.

All I had to do was choose another.

Then—

“Do you really not know when Volume 3 will be written? Your mother wants to read the next story as soon as possible.”

…No.

I couldn’t.

The reason I had decided to write books in the first place was simple.

I wanted people to enjoy reading.

And I had already received that answer.

Even if I was merely adapting works from another world…

I still felt responsible for them.

“My opinion differs.”

My voice was firm.

Emilia’s eyes sharpened.

Beside me, Ludwin visibly twitched.

Truthfully, I was nervous too.

But I’d already died once.

I wasn’t going to spend my second life swallowing every opinion.

Most importantly…

There were a lot of Three Kingdoms fans now.

Including my parents.

“Your opinion differs? What do you mean?”

“First, I agree that The Story of the Three Kingdoms is more extreme than most novels currently available. But the important question isn’t whether something is extreme. It’s how that extremity is portrayed.”

“What difference does that make?”

“When writing the story, the most important theme for me was the distinction between right and wrong. Among everyone who has read the novel, do you think anyone believes Dong Zhuo’s actions were morally correct?”

“Who knows? Some people might dream of the luxury and indulgence he enjoyed.”

“Perhaps. If they don’t know the horrific fate awaiting him in the next volume.”

“…!”

For a moment, surprise flashed across Emilia’s face.

Whether because she couldn’t refute my argument or because I had just spoiled Volume 3, I couldn’t tell.

I pressed forward.

“It isn’t enough to simply claim that depicting evil is dangerous. If something is wrong, who will teach people that it’s wrong? If books don’t play that role, then what will?”

“Commoners already learn basic morality and etiquette. You did, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Parents teach them. Villagers teach them. Word of mouth. But books can teach more people, more quickly, and more effectively. You know that yourself.”

“That’s exactly the problem! Too quickly! Too radically! Why do commoners need to understand power? Why do they need to know why wars happen?”

“Because they should! These things aren’t someone else’s problem! People need to think for themselves and reach their own conclusions!”

The discussion grew increasingly heated.

Before long, Emilia and I were glaring at one another as though we intended to devour each other.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could sense Ludwin and Dmitri’s alarm.

Perhaps I was pushing too hard.

But—

She’s different from other nobles.

She can handle this much.

Emilia Rinter was an intellectual.

Open-minded enough to have this kind of conversation with a commoner.

Surely she wouldn’t punish me simply for disagreeing—

“Hmph… Hmph…!”

Looking at Emilia’s reddened face as she seethed with indignation, I reconsidered.

…This might actually be dangerous.

A bit of regret began creeping in.

Fortunately, someone else seemed to feel the same.

“Excuse me…”

Ludwin stepped in at precisely the right moment.

His arms were filled with letters.

“These are letters from readers of The Story of the Three Kingdoms. Most are from commoners, mercenaries, and knights who never cared about books before.”

“Why are you showing me those?”

Ludwin swallowed nervously.

“Because I wanted to show you what people are gaining from the book.”

Emilia stared at him for several seconds.

Then, finally—

“…Give them to me.”

She pulled out one letter.

It didn’t take long to read.

“Another.”

Then another.

And another.

Commoners weren’t skilled letter writers.

Their words weren’t elegant.

What could they possibly write?

“Another.”

As Ludwin placed the entire pile beside her, Emilia began reading seriously.

I had read many of them myself.

Honestly, most weren’t remarkable.

Some discussed favorite characters.

Some complained.

‘Author, are you really going to let that scoundrel get away with this?’

Things like that.

But the majority of them were simply—

“…They really are enjoying it.”

Gratitude.

Most of the letters thanked the author for showing them that reading could be enjoyable.

Emilia fell silent.

At that moment, Dmitri produced another document.

“My Lady. The Marquis instructed me to show you this once the opportunity arose.”

“…Father did?”

Looking half-defeated already, she accepted the report.

A few moments later—

“…Crime rates in the city have decreased since The Story of the Three Kingdoms was published?”

“And that’s not all. Morale among soldiers on the front lines has improved, and desertion rates have dropped.”

“Ha…”

Even someone as brilliant as Emilia remained in the palm of her father’s hand.

And now I finally understood why Marquis Rinter had decided to support me.

She let out a tired laugh and nodded.

“Very well. The publication ban on The Story of the Three Kingdoms is officially revoked.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you!”

Both Ludwin and I expressed our gratitude.

Emilia shot me a sideways glance.

“Hmph. To be honest, it could all be a coincidence. But… I am curious about what happens next.”

“I think you’ll be satisfied.”

“How did this conversation even end up here…? This wasn’t what I came to discuss.”

Avoiding my broad grin, she muttered under her breath.

Watching her sulk like that made it clear.

She wasn’t quite an adult yet.

Then another thought occurred to me.

“Come to think of it… why did you come here in the first place?”

“Forget it. I came bearing good news and a proposal, but—”

“I would very much like to hear the wisdom of the great Lady Emilia Rinter.”

After all…

Comforting children was an adult’s responsibility.

As I carefully tried to coax her back into a good mood, I heard Ludwin muttering quietly to himself.

“Kids really do get along best with other kids…”