In the Name of the Queen

Sylph chose to be cowardly.

Roland chose Yong.

While Sylph was panicking and summoning the palace doctor to give the teacher first aid, Roland was banging the table and yelling at the bald editor:

"Mr. Byron, don't tell me that the bonus hasn't arrived yet."

Today's training session ended quickly. Margaret was very satisfied with Roland's progress and gave him more free time.

Roland, who was relieved, immediately came to Collins Publishing House and approached Editor-in-Chief Byron to ask for the prize, but was rejected by the other party with both force and force.

An ordinary person would probably leave without hesitation, fearing that he would be judged in the future, but Roland didn't care about that.

He has been rejected by Byron countless times, what could be worse?

In this world, one pound of gold coins is equivalent to 7.5 grams of gold, which has strong purchasing power. His bonus can buy four houses in the prosperous district of the imperial capital.

With all this money, he still cares if the publisher doesn't accept his manuscript?

Even if Sussex refuses to accept it, he can entrust Alina to publish it in the Kingdom of Jin Yuan. By then, he will be a returned overseas artist, and his net worth will rise.

In short, this bonus must be given today!

Facing the menacing Roland, Byron was frightened and did not even dare to look at Roland, but he still refused to change his mind.

"Roland, this is the Royal Essay Competition. The prize money cannot be paid so quickly. Moreover, the big names in the literary world do not approve of the results of this essay competition."

Under Roland's murderous gaze, Byron pulled Roland to his private office and said in a low voice:

"Roland, you have offended many people, do you know?"

"I didn't do anything wrong. Anyone who is offended should find their own reasons."

Byron reached out and patted Roland on the shoulder, then lowered his voice and persuaded her earnestly:

"Roland, unless you can fly out of Sussex, you have to follow the rules. The literary world is not only competing for talent, but also for human sophistication. This time many big names participated in the essay competition, but the result was you, a young man with no reputation. Will they be convinced if they win the championship?”

Roland thought to himself that this is the championship I won based on my own ability. If Count Sif hadn't helped explain, he might not have even been able to save his life. Who else would he deserve for this championship?

He was not in a hurry to slam the table and retaliate. After all, he also wanted to know who the enemy was, and to understand the real thoughts of these people, he lowered his voice and asked:

"Mr. Byron, what do you mean?"

Seeing Roland calm down, Byron lowered his voice and said: "I don't mean it. It makes no difference to me who wins the championship. I am doing it for your own good."

"A young and talented young man like you needs time to accumulate. A distinguished guest proposed to me that as long as you voluntarily give up your ranking in the essay competition."

Roland narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

The main course is coming.

Byron coughed lightly and said softly: "The essay champion will be invited to participate in the Royal Art Salon. This salon is of a very high level, and big figures such as cabinet ministers and the Speaker will appear."

"You don't even know the etiquette of a gentleman. If you participate, you will make a fool of yourself. It doesn't matter if you make a fool of yourself, you will only lose the face of Her Majesty the Queen."

Byron chuckled and said softly: "Think about it, Her Majesty the Queen is not yet an adult, and she is at the age of impulsiveness. What will happen if you embarrass her?"

"Being angered can even lead to loss of head." Roland followed his words.

Byron patted his thigh and smiled:

"You are very sensible. Her Majesty the Queen is thin-skinned. Your novel has already made her very unhappy. If you embarrass her again, it will be double humiliation. Even if you are just venting your anger, your end will not be good."

"So"

"What's the benefit of giving up the championship?" Roland asked bluntly.

Byron was stunned.

The distinguished guest did prepare benefits, but he didn't expect Roland to be so direct.

Smiling awkwardly, Byron teased softly: "Roland, I have told you that your novels are full of worldliness, but you still don't believe me. How can a writer keep talking about money all day long?"

Roland glared at him and sneered: "Who has ever recognized me as a writer, you?"

Byron was speechless for a moment.

Yes, they have never regarded Roland as an insider, but they want to use the rules of the circle to restrain Roland. It is indeed a fool's errand.

Byron coughed lightly and said, "Roland, if you insist on claiming the championship prize, you will most likely end up being put into a sack, tied with stones, and thrown into the Tamas River. This kind of thing is very common here."

Roland was noncommittal.

But it was all nonsense before, he was waiting for a but.

Seeing that Roland was unmoved, Byron knew that this guy was not easy to fool, so he simply gave up the tactics of first intimidating and then comforting, and said directly:

"I know you want the bonus to buy a house. That distinguished guest respects your talent and requirements and is willing to give you one hundred and fifty pounds as compensation, which is enough for you to buy a house and more."

Roland looked at Byron with wide eyes and asked in surprise:

"You mean, I give up the five hundred pound bonus, the championship glory, and the opportunity to participate in the royal art salon, just for one hundred and fifty pounds?"

He stared at Byron with an idiot look, which made the bald editor-in-chief's face feel a little hot.

Of course the distinguished guest gave you more than that.

He just wanted to keep a large part of it and give Roland a sip of soup. Is this too much?

Don't be so shameless!

Not to be outdone, Byron's eyes widened and he raised his head to look at Roland.

What he meant was clear.

Boy, don't be ignorant of praise. I asked you to take a sip of soup. Do you still want to take the soup pot away?

Seeing that Byron refused to let go, Roland stood up directly.

"Roland, where are you going?"

"Nothing, go to Sheffield Castle and find the Minister of the Interior to receive the award."

Seeing that Roland was really going to leave, Byron quickly stopped him.

The fat guy was moving like an athlete at this time.

"Don't go, we can discuss it."

"Since it's a business, we have to follow the business rules, otherwise there is no room for negotiation."

Roland sneered: "The championship prize is mine, there is no doubt about it. If you want to talk about business, the distinguished guest needs to compensate me for my loss of honor."

Byron was irritated by Roland's stubborn attitude, and he gritted his teeth and threatened:

"Roland, I tell you, there are only a few teachers in the whole empire who can teach noble etiquette, and they won't teach you, and it's useless to have money! Even if they are willing to teach, a few days won't be enough."

"You will definitely make a fool of yourself!"

Roland showed a sneer of contempt at the corner of his mouth.

The etiquette teachers outside don't teach him, what about those in the palace?

He snorted and said disdainfully: "Whether I can find a teacher is my business. What we are talking about now is how much money the championship glory can be converted into."

Byron's old face flushed red, but he could not resist the contempt in Roland's eyes.

He knew very well that Roland was not the kind of rookie who would pee his pants if he was easily frightened.

He also knew that if he didn't offer a reasonable price, Roland would never accept the deal.

Thinking that he could have made a lot of money, but was forced to make a small profit by Roland, Byron's heart was bleeding.

He gritted his teeth and said: "A total of 800 pounds, this is the bottom line!"

"I will only consider 2,000 pounds, remember that it's just a consideration. I will directly reject any insulting offer below this number." Roland said in a deep voice.

Of course he didn't accept the deal.

Accepting the deal would be an insult to the goodwill of Count Sif, absolutely not.

But this doesn't mean that he can't play with the other party.

Seeing Roland's arrogant attitude, Byron was so angry that he almost had a cerebral hemorrhage.

If he accepted Roland's sky-high price, he would have to pay 200 pounds.

He does have money, but he only drinks blood, not bleeds.

Byron growled in anger, "Roland, the distinguished guest only gave me one thousand pounds."

"One thousand five hundred pounds. Otherwise, I will go to Sheffield Castle to receive the award myself."

After a slight pause, Roland said in a deep voice: "A price lower than this is an insult to the honor of the champion and this wonderful novel."

Byron almost had a cerebral hemorrhage.

He only wrote one sentence in total, and the first sentence was about thirteen apartments in the core area of ​​the imperial capital. Why don't you go and grab them?

Although he almost fainted on the spot, Byron knew that Roland was young and energetic and would never compromise easily.

Since he was not scared at the beginning, the final result was already doomed.

He stared at Roland.

If anger could kill people, Roland would have died thirteen times.

Finally, in Roland's "give or not" eyes, Byron compromised.

In this way, he could at least get a small amount of kickbacks.

"One thousand five hundred pounds, pay a deposit of 500 pounds first, and give you the balance after the matter is completed!"

Roland stood up and walked out directly.

Byron stopped him and asked unhappily, "What do you want?"

"Give it all to me."

Byron was speechless.

His fat face was twisted and twitched with anger, but he still gritted his teeth and opened the safe, took out a large bag of gold coins and stuffed it into Roland's hand.

Just when Roland was about to reach out, he pushed the contract over.

"Sign!"

Roland took a quick look. This was a secret contract. Once signed, it meant that he voluntarily gave up the essay championship.

And he would receive 1,500 pounds of gold coins as compensation.

This was reasonable.

Roland signed his name quickly.

"Deal, happy cooperation."

Byron looked dark and said nothing. He watched Roland leave with a hint of mockery in his eyes.

Young man, really greedy.

I just don't know if he can spend this money.

Roland whistled as he left the publishing house, and almost couldn't help laughing.

He did sign to give up the championship.

But he knew very well that someone would definitely take the money back.

The empire tacitly accepted private contracts, but there were also legal constraints. If one party to the contract uses violence to endanger the personal safety of the other party, the contract will be void and the remuneration stipulated in the contract will be used as compensation.

This law comes from the former Plantagenet Kingdom and is very old. After the Sussex Empire sank the Plantagenet Dynasty, it retained some laws, including this one.

Professional lawyers may not know this.

But Roland knew.

He had secured the 1,500 pounds.

Since it was a life-and-death battle, there was no need to be polite to the enemy.

Just as he was about to leave, the newsboy appeared again.

"Sir, would you like a newspaper?"

"Which newspaper?"

"The Sussex Sun Essay Collection, one shilling!"

"Why don't you go and grab it. Wait, it's the Sun?"

Roland took out a silver coin, stuffed it into the newsboy, and snatched the newspaper.

It must be said that although the news in the Sun is wild, it is sometimes very accurate.

He opened the newspaper and read it while walking.

This special issue is very detailed. It not only publishes wonderful excerpts of award-winning works, but also comes with a brief introduction and interviews with these well-known writers.

Roland read through the pages patiently, expecting to see the winner.

However, he was stunned to see only one line of small words.

"The winner of the essay contest will be announced at the Royal Literary Salon, so stay tuned."

You are worthy of it, The Sun. There is a reason why it is called a toilet newspaper.

Pah!

Roland smiled and crumpled the newspaper and threw it into the trash can.

A good day, except for the wasted shilling.