Chapter 6
The reason Clementine Cornille first decided to write Gothic novels was simple.
She needed money.
After her family fell into ruin, she had sold almost all of their land and jewelry.
She had even taken on small jobs like sewing.
Even so, she was always struggling financially.
She desperately needed money.
But once she actually started writing Gothic novels, which were said to be quite profitable these days…
She discovered that she genuinely enjoyed it.
Unfortunately…
It still wasn’t enough.
“These are your royalties.”
An employee at the publishing house handed her a check.
The amount was pitifully small.
“It can’t be helped.”
“Printing books is extremely expensive.”
As if he had defended himself against this complaint many times before, he quickly added,
“We’re living in the age of industrialization.”
“Let’s just wait until technology improves.”
Then he shrugged.
“…Excuse me.”
“When my next book is published…”
“I’ll still have to pay for the first print run myself, won’t I?”
Clementine asked cautiously.
She already knew the answer.
She simply didn’t want to accept it.
“Of course.”
The employee answered without hesitation.
“It’s true that your books sell fairly well, Miss Cornille.”
Clementine had long since given up correcting people about her title.
She simply listened quietly.
“But they only sell fairly well.”
“They’re not bestsellers.”
“But…”
She had plenty she wanted to argue.
Yet the words never left her mouth.
If she upset him…
He might make things even harder for her.
“Let me give you one piece of advice.”
Perhaps he felt sorry for her discouraged expression.
“You should find a noble patron.”
“…A patron?”
“If someone important writes a recommendation for you, it’ll help your books get published.”
“It proves you’re respectable.”
He lowered his voice.
“And if a wealthy noble decides to sponsor you…”
“They’ll cover your living expenses…”
“And even your publishing costs.”
Clementine had never imagined such a thing.
“H-how would I go about finding a patron?”
“If you want people to start talking about your books…”
The employee glanced at her worn, shabby clothes.
“You need to write stories that appeal to noble readers.”
He continued,
“Make them much more provocative.”
“The darker…”
“The more decadent…”
“The more violent…”
“The better.”
“…Really?”
“They all claim Gothic novels are cheap and vulgar.”
“But in the end…”
“That’s exactly what they want.”
The employee nodded enthusiastically.
“Do you remember that novel from a while back?”
“The one about the corrupt monk who assaulted women and committed murders?”
“Ah…”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”
“The author was publicly criticized.”
“But the book sold like wildfire.”
He snorted.
“They condemn those books in public.”
“But secretly…”
“They love them.”
And so…
With a cheap royalty check in one hand…
Clementine Cornille found herself facing yet another obstacle.
“…Sigh.”
After returning home, she let out a long sigh.
“If I want the support of a noble patron…”
“I have to write stories they’ll enjoy…”
It sounded simple.
Actually doing it was another matter entirely.
Unfortunately…
Clementine simply wasn’t the kind of person capable of writing stories like that.
She was nothing more than a tiny little sauce bowl…
Far too small to hold such things.
But she still needed money.
She stared at her unmoving pen for what felt like hours.
“…Excuse me.”
“Is anyone home?”
The voice outside finally pulled her back to reality.
“Oh, yes.”
“Who is it?”
She opened the front door herself.
And found an unexpected visitor.
It was Olivier Rochemont, the lawyer she had met the other day.
“Oh…”
Her face froze before she could even greet him.
Surely…
The new lord had changed his mind and sent someone to demand the rent.
“No, no!”
Perhaps noticing the despair on her face, Olivier hurriedly waved both hands.
“That’s not it!”
“I’ve simply come to deliver an invitation!”
“…An invitation?”
As color gradually returned to Clementine’s pale face, Olivier reached into the inside pocket of his jacket.
He took out a thick envelope decorated with luxurious gold embossing.
“His Grace is holding a celebration to mark becoming the new lord of Bellefontaine.”
That certainly sounded reasonable.
“As a noble lady living within His Grace’s territory…”
“You should naturally attend.”
Olivier smiled warmly.
From the moment they had first met, Clementine had thought he looked like a genuinely kind gentleman.
His golden hair shone like sunlight.
His rosy cheeks gave him an almost innocent appearance.
“Thank you for the invitation…”
“But…”
Clementine intended to decline.
She had nothing suitable to wear.
No proper shoes.
No jewelry.
Not even a carriage to travel in.
…
More than anything…
She didn’t want to meet Damien Lambert again.
“Please don’t refuse just yet, Miss Clementine!”
As usual, Olivier immediately sensed what she was thinking.
“This is a party hosted by the Duke of Bellombre.”
“The King’s beloved acknowledged son.”
He gently tried to persuade her.
“There will be countless nobles attending.”
“Well…”
That was precisely why she didn’t want to go.
If a fallen noblewoman appeared at such a gathering…
She would only become the target of ridicule.
“Don’t you need a patron?”
“…What?”
“You write Gothic novels, don’t you?”
“Ah…”
At once, Clementine’s cheeks flushed red.
These days, the publishing house insisted that books sold better if readers also knew about the female author’s personal life.
That was why she had published under her real name.
Even so…
She still disliked it.
“It could be the perfect opportunity to meet a wealthy patron.”
Olivier said.
He was absolutely right.
Once again…
Clementine realized she still hadn’t completely abandoned her noble pride.
Even after losing everything…
Even after selling almost everything she owned…
When Damien had visited…
She had insisted she could pay six months’ rent.
But…
That had only been empty pride.
If Damien Lambert hadn’t unexpectedly shown her that condescending kindness…
She would already have been thrown out onto the streets.
Even paying for daily necessities was difficult.
She desperately needed money.
There was almost nothing left she could sell anymore…
Except herself.
“…Thank you.”
So…
She accepted the invitation.
An elegant envelope decorated with silk and fine paper.
A first-class ticket leading directly to Damien Lambert’s castle.
“I’m honored to be invited.”
If she had to display herself like merchandise in order to gain a patron…
Then this party was the perfect place.
Even if it was unbearably humiliating.
“Actually…”
“Things are already off to a good start, Miss Clementine.”
Olivier added kindly.
“Have you heard of the Mangala family?”
“Yes.”
“I read about them in the newspaper.”
“They were originally a minor noble family…”
“But became incredibly wealthy after investing in the arms industry.”
“Exactly.”
Olivier nodded cheerfully.
“Their daughter, Miss Celine Mangala, is very excited.”
“…About the party?”
“No.”
“About the chance to finally meet the Gothic novelist, Clementine Cornille.”
Clementine’s face turned even redder.
“T-that can’t be…”
“It’s true.”
“She even personally asked His Grace to be sure to invite you.”
As though it were his mission to encourage her, Olivier spoke with practiced ease.
“Miss Celine is His Grace’s fiancĆ©e.”
“…His fiancĆ©e?”
The words escaped Clementine before she realized it.
She immediately recognized how rude that sounded.
“I-I see.”
“Congratulations to them.”
She hurriedly corrected herself.
“In any case…”
“I’ll attend the party on the appointed day.”
The longer they stayed on the subject, the more uncomfortable she felt.
Clementine decided it was time to see Olivier off.
“We’ll make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.”
“So please come without any worries.”
Olivier immediately understood that she was politely ending the conversation.
“I was surprised you came in person.”
“Normally, someone would simply send a servant to deliver an invitation.”
Because she truly appreciated the gesture, Clementine couldn’t help saying so.
“I volunteered.”
Olivier replied with an easy smile.
“It was an honor to have another chance to meet such a beautiful lady.”
Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he added,
“Oh.”
“Please bring your younger sister to the party as well.”
“…You’re inviting my sister Hilde too?”
“I thought it might be difficult to attend a room full of strangers all by yourself.”
Olivier smiled one last time.
“And besides…”
“The more beautiful ladies there are…”
“The more splendid His Grace’s party will become.”
With that, he bowed politely and took his leave.
Clementine quietly closed the door…
Feeling slightly dizzy.
