Marielle Clarac's Engagement

Ordering coffee at a familiar cafe, aside from the cake for the girl named Mariel, Paul received an envelope that weighed well. This is quite a long story. You won't be able to read it all here right now.

"I'm sorry if it's hard to read. I didn't know how to write..."

That's what Mariel said, but the letters are clean and neat. The paper used had a line in it, and the line spacing was also aligned because it was written along it. Easy to read at once.

"Great, where did you get all this paper?

Looks like a big note. The manuscript of the novel is more likely to be used for clerical work. Show them to the editorial guys and they'll jump.

"I made a special order to the place where they print the note we use, and they made it"

"... ho"

Wasn't it over-the-counter? That makes it difficult to introduce.

Paul papered with his fingers.

Do you take this quality for granted? It doesn't seem like most houses are going out of their way to make a special note. No, I know you're rich from the start, but nevertheless.

If you turn a blind eye to Mariel, you are watching Paul with anticipation and nervousness. Made me look crazy, and I spilled a laugh.

"The tea's gonna be cold. Have some cake, too."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, I'll have it."

When I glance at him, he remembers what's right in front of him, and finally reaches out. Carry the cake cut with a fork to your mouth and let your face down deliciously. Next he took up the cup and the tea-drinking gesture was also perfectly elegant.

Damn, Paul snapped without speaking up. This is a pretty deep window lady. The rich, even the rich, are not like the gold there. Paul's known "ladies" were consciously performing something called a classy self. She boasts that she is different from her daughter in general by dressing beautifully and showing off where there is good and upbringing. I want to be conscious, but it's a sign that I haven't been able to be real.

The girl here was rarely "real". It's not a gorgeous figure, but a plain look in person. But the atmosphere and the way it behaved were sophisticated, and every gesture was natural and tasteful. I have no feelings for this. It's natural for Mariel, and I guess it's not like boasting to others.

I wasn't the kind of daughter who wandered around the city all by herself, no matter what she thought. I wonder what to do after this, other than the manuscript I have in my hand. Here, yes. I'm too worried about throwing it out with Sayonara. That doesn't mean I can't even deliver you home while you're at work. If I open the company for too long, I'm going to lose my seat as it is. Because even the editor hates me.

Paul runs his eyes on the manuscript as he hides his sigh. I only had to read the first few pieces and put them back into the envelope without looking at the rest.

Seemed to have misunderstood it, and Mariel's expression appeared.

Paul laughed again and carried his coffee to his mouth.

"That's all the length, I can't read it all right now. Can I take it back and read it carefully?

"- What? Yes! Of course! Thank you!

Shivering, rejoicing, busy. I enjoy the twirling and changing look. Paul said to Mariel, who happened to be well again.

"Return and feedback will be later, can you come out again? If you don't tell your parents, I can go to your house."

"It's not like it's a secret for once, but I'm sorry to bother you. It's okay, I'm coming out."

"... are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes!"

A good smile and a big nod inflame anxiety instead. Paul put the cup down and tightened his expression.

"How are you going to get home today?

"Huh? I usually use Tsuji carriages."

"Is it far enough to use a carriage? So what brings you out here all by yourself? You're not supposed to be in a position to walk unaccompanied. Do the people at home know? Didn't you shut up and get out? If that's the case, you can't make the next promise."

Scolded directly from the front, Mariel makes a surprised face. I shrugged my neck a little, and excused myself for getting upside-down.

"Well... I've said I'm going out for once... but I didn't say where I was going, so maybe the house folks think I'm walking around the neighborhood"

"You say you got out of it!

"It's okay! Because no one will pay attention even if I walk! I'm good at being crowded. I am confident that I will be part of the landscape and unnoticed by my presence and will not be remembered by anyone!

"I don't need it. Such confidence! That's what it looks like!

Mariel raised her voice and Paul coughed up and put her posture back on. I wave at the clerk who looks at me in surprise, saying it's nothing.

"Bring your offerings properly next time. Then I promise I'll see you."

"Uh... I can't assimilate into the landscape without being alone"

"You don't have to. Nothing."

Things are going crazy. It would be natural for a deep-window warrant lady to float away, but this girl feels something different again.

I managed to get Mariel to agree, and Paul drank his coffee.

"So... right, how about three days from now? I'm off work, so I can take my time."

"Are you sure you want to go out of your way for your day off?

"To do it at work, you can't do it without an understanding above. There was nothing wrong with you being a man, but you can't treat me like I'm talking to a girl."

"... sorry"

"It's not about you apologizing."

Paul laughed brightly and fingered the envelope he had deposited.

"It's what I want to do. I feel like I've seen it all the time, it's a pretty good sentence and the introduction is good. It's a manuscript that I'm curious to read first. I don't know how to let this unfold and how to talk about it until I've read it, but I think it would be splendid to be able to write this much that year. Speaking of which, you didn't ask, how old (how old) are you?

Now she realized and asked, Mariel had somehow corrected her posture and soaked her face.

"It will be next month fifteen. I'm joining adults."

"No, even if they say I'm an adult at fifteen"

If you smile, I'll swoop your cheeks and argue with you.

"Ma'am, because I'm debating to the social world this spring. You will be able to worship kings and queens. Just the first time you say hello... maybe you'll forget it instantly."

"Ha ha, that's awesome - that's really awesome!? I didn't think so, but I knew you were noble!?"

"Ah."

After being stuck, Mariel finally holds her mouth. He distracted himself and laughed deliberately at his cheeks.

"No, well, there are a lot of things in the aristocracy. My family has no status, no history, no wealth, and is as middle-class as I pictured it, so it's much richer and more powerful, such as Mr. Faure, the banker, and Mr. Dorlew, the Realtor King."

"You're familiar!? Don't deceive me. Damn, the princess used to come out of town by herself. You're used to something, and it's probably not the first time, right?

"As I said earlier, if I walked alone, it wouldn't catch anyone's eye. You will not be kidnapped or robbed unless you are recognised to exist. My family knows that, too, so they don't really care. Mr. Satie found me a lot, didn't she?

"No, well, it was right after I left, and I was right around the corner."

"Maybe you won't notice if I see you in three days. I'll bet you what?

Seriously suggested, Paul sighed deeply. She looks plain, but she's a hell of a daughter in there. Is this the case with all the nobles? No, it shouldn't be. I don't know, maybe this should be a stranger among the nobles. I hope you don't tell me this is standard or something.

Well, I guess I was determined to bring it to the publisher, etc. because I was a stranger and behaved.

It would be normal for a nobleman to make a servant use it to deliver it. No, I might call my own mansion for editing. It's no surprise you don't think about being turned down, and believe it's natural to be published. Even more so if you're a worldless lady, you'd be innocently arrogant.

Mariel walked on her own feet to visit the publisher. Even if he refused, he didn't order it, he was asking diligently. That's all I like. And make him realize that he wrote a novel seriously, not as a game of thought.

Paul once again looked down at the envelope at hand. I don't know what it is to be noble, but I want to take this one seriously with serious enthusiasm. If this manuscript was to a standard that could be published - I wouldn't have it tackled first if I brought it into the editorial department, but is there any way to keep them quiet and publish it somehow?

One thing, it's not like I don't have a hand. It's just that it goes hand in hand with danger. Paul knows exactly what happens when you fail. Couldn't be used cheaply.

The two then left the cafe with a fine promise three days later. Paul escorted Mariel as far as the Tsuji carriage, dropping him off. A little anxiety will remain, but as long as we're not so unlucky, this will make it home safely. I told them to bring me a proper offering next time, but they might just scold me by my parents and forbid me to go out if I honestly reported every thing I could do today. I gave you my business card, so if I do, I want you to send me a letter.

Since then, I have visited the writer in charge to receive the manuscript. I can't wait to fire Paul. The editor-in-chief puts in charge of all the writers he can't sell because of molestation. I want to bring him in for firing, saying that the bad sales are due to Paul's bad arm. But the writers Paul was in charge of sold one after the other, and they began to benefit the company. Enough to keep writers hoping to hear that reputation and take charge of themselves too. The editor blamed Paul for not recognizing him as competent and deliberately lowering his assessment, but because he had a clear track record, he looked bitter but couldn't fire him.

"You're finally back. Took a long time, how far were you going to get it? Rabbia?"

Back in the editorial department, my boss's disgust just flew in. He asks me if I've even been to the next country, and Paul returns, "It's Ezdail over there," he says. The editor snorted with Hung.

"I went after a woman's ass. Didn't I? Nice work."

"Oh, you don't know? The head of Easdale is the queen."

"Oh, you've been worshipping Her Majesty the Queen."

"Yeah, he was nice and pleasant."

Ignore the sniffles and tongues that will ring again, and take your seat. The manuscript deposited from Mariel was bagged and began to confirm the scheduled manuscript for publication. When that's done, it's time to arrange printing and consider advertising. Even if a writer works hard to write a good one, that doesn't necessarily mean he can sell it alone. It is in the hands of publishers to inform the public and motivate them to buy. Other edits are part of the effort, but Paul's thought propaganda worked and played a part in the track record.

As the time to get up approached, a colleague dropped by early to clear his desk.

"Paul, what are your plans for tonight?

"Straight home"

"It's a boring one. You live alone, don't you? You don't even have a girlfriend, do you?

"Leave me alone. The landlord's stew is excellent. Whatever it is, I'm leaving tonight."

Check the clock, and Paul begins his return journey.

"Stew's fine, but why don't we go get a drink? I found a store with cute kids."

"Sorry, I have something to read in a hurry"

When I asked him to do it again, my colleague raised his eyebrows unexpectedly.

"You haven't finished the manuscript yet? It's time to turn it to print."

"No, apart from work. I'm going to take this to the next step."

The work manuscript goes into a locked drawer and stands up with a bag. The printing process begins tomorrow. Paul's work is a paragraph because another department is responsible for designating the fitting, etc.

"What non-work manuscript... no, I heard a young woman came to bring it in today, but is that it? Are you still thinking about producing a woman's writer? If you can't."

After speaking in a frivolous manner, the colleague glanced at him like an editor and whispered with a whisper.

"Well, some of them might be clever, huh? But you can't sell what a woman wrote. I was decided to waste it before I read it, and it's not for me to look at it. Isn't that why the boss disagrees? Regardless of what you can't do, you'll never get permission up there. Just give it up. If you stick to it forever, you'll be fired for how much you've accomplished."

I know this guy is best friends with Paul in-house and he's worried about saying it to me. No malice, it also gives me some understanding of Paul's thoughts. But this is what I'm saying. I've decided from the beginning that it's no use trying. Paul shook his head and turned his back on his colleague

"I have a past that I've sold."

"I know. But I sold it because I was putting it out in the name of a man. So what happens when you discover that the author was a woman? Soon the public acclaim turned upside down and I couldn't get anything to go on. That's the answer. I can't sell what the woman wrote. What we're doing is business. We can't deal with things we can't sell."

The editor called a colleague in an angry voice. I know you didn't hear this one, but you don't like talking to Paul. I was able to say my job in eight different ways, and it was a little more time before my coworkers could go out for a drink. With just a little bit of regret, Paul quickly escapes before an attack arrives here either. If I went outside, the sunset sky would have spread.

Until a little while ago, it was dark even when we were out at the same time, but the sun grew a lot. If it were not for March, no heavy coats would be needed, but it is still cold at night. Paul hurried his way to the boarding house before it got cold.

Rebellion the words of a colleague as he walks among those who follow the family path in the same way. What he said was what prompted Paul to aspire to be an editor.

Hide being a woman and publish under a man's name. That's the only way out. As long as you can do the work, you can sell it with it. But if it's a woman...

I remember the noise of a decade ago, and I still remember it clearly. It was unforgettable, and I couldn't give up.