In the Name of the Queen

"Genius, what a genius idea!"

The editor-in-chief of the Sun Society, the tall and thin Mr. Duke, slapped the table hard and gave a high evaluation of Roland's first draft.

He pushed his glasses, and his expression, which was as cold as a glacier, suddenly became like spring.

"Oh, Mr. Roland, Miss Sif, it is an honor for our society to have you two submit your articles!"

He shook the bell hard and scolded the servant who came quickly, asking the servant to pour tea for the guests.

Then he complimented Roland in an especially corny tone.

"Mr. Roland, your article is a style I rarely see."

"Excuse me, the current Sussex literary world has gone astray, and many so-called literary masters write things that are just whining."

Even though Roland was very thick-skinned, he was still a little embarrassed by such direct praise.

In line with the principle of mutual promotion, Roland smiled and said, "You can't say that. The big names in the literary world write tragedies, and I write comedies. The styles are different."

"There are many forms of artistic expression, so we can't generalize."

Duke snorted disdainfully and sneered:

"I'm not targeting anyone. I just think that many people have a distorted understanding of tragedy. The so-called tragedy is to tear beautiful things into pieces for readers to see. It is definitely not to throw stinky things in the readers' faces and then complacently say that this is art."

"Whether it is art or not, readers have the right to judge."

Duke slammed the table emotionally and complained loudly:

"I once invited several literary giants to write columns for my agency, but these guys didn't respect my requirements at all, and even mocked me for not understanding art."

"Bah, they took the newspaper's money but refused to follow the requirements. They have no professional ethics!"

Roland suddenly realized that it was no wonder that Editor-in-Chief Duke had such a big grudge against the old guys in the Sussex literary world. It turned out that there was a personal grudge.

Suddenly realizing that he had let the cat out of the bag, Duke quickly stopped complaining and changed the subject, "Mr. Roland, do you only plan to submit one manuscript or do you want long-term cooperation?"

"What are the conditions for one-time submission and long-term cooperation?"

"One-time submission is like other authors. You get paid for your submission, and the income distribution can be fixed buyout or divided according to proportion. Long-term cooperation means signing a contract to become our contributor, and frequently cooperating. The specific price is determined by the sales of newspapers and special issues, and the treatment is higher."

Duke introduced it in a torrent of words.

Roland understood his conditions as soon as he heard them, and was in awe.

This distribution method is quite close to the income distribution model of modern literary circles, and even has some shadows of online literature.

I didn't expect the Sun's business philosophy to be so advanced. No wonder it can become bigger and stronger in the field of toilet newspapers.

There is something.

Although he didn't rush to express his opinion, Roland had already recognized Duke and the Sun in his heart. He took the two-page contract handed over by Duke and silently thought about how to maximize the benefits.

Sif also understood Duke's words as soon as he heard them, with contempt in her eyes.

Is this still called literature?

It's just a business.

Can something like this that reeks of money really be called a literary work?

She was very sure that Roland would not accept long-term cooperation.

She knew Roland.

Roland was not a shameless person who would sell everything for money and had no bottom line.

She had read several of Roland's novels, and she had never seen Roland ask her for a penny.

It was obvious that Roland did not write to make money, but for a pure literary dream.

She knew that Roland would only accept a one-time cooperation model, because he had to submit the article for publication, otherwise he would not even accept this.

After carefully reading the contract, Roland handed the contract to Sif quite gentlemanly and asked her to help take a look.

Sif roughly read it and had a lower opinion of Duke and The Sun.

According to the contract provided by Duke, the author is the cash cow of The Sun, and must rack his brains to consider how to please readers and create gimmicks to attract attention in order to gain more revenue.

This is completely different from the traditional monetization model of literary works.

In the past, writers worked for the royal family and the nobility. It was common for them to not write for a few years and then to make a living for a few years.

They had absolute creative freedom. Because their income was not tied to sales, they did not have to consider what readers thought and could freely create shocking works.

Under this creative freedom, very few fine tragedies and countless dung works under the guise of tragedies were created.

But no one ever questioned it.

Because this model has lasted for thousands of years.

It has been like this since ancient times.

The Sun's practice is unorthodox and violates the laws of the ancestors. No wonder it was boycotted by other newspapers and publishing houses and was called a toilet newspaper.

Putting down the contract, Roland and Sif looked at each other and nodded at the same time.

In Mr. Duke's expectant eyes, the two spoke at the same time.

"We choose long-term cooperation!"

"We choose one-time cooperation!"

Duke: "."

Can you two unify your ideas before you speak? Your answers cannot be said to be very different, but at least they are completely opposite.

Roland: “.”

Sif: “.”

The air in the living room almost froze. Just when the situation was getting awkward, Sif’s gentle voice broke the silence.

“Roland, this is your work. You decide.” Sif bit her lip and whispered.

“No, this work also has your hard work. You decide.” Roland spoke generously.

Seeing that the situation was about to get out of control, Duke hurried out to smooth things over.

"Mr. Roland, Ms. Sif, I don't think there's any need to be so entangled. Since you submitted the manuscript, at least it means that you want to publish it in our company, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hmph."

They spoke at the same time, both simple interjections, but with completely different meanings.

Duke smiled and suggested, "How about this. We can sign a semi-long-term contract. This submission will enjoy the treatment of long-term cooperation. Whether to continue to submit in the future is up to you."

"If you don't want to continue the cooperation, the contract will be frozen naturally. If you still have the intention to cooperate, the contract can be activated at any time. How about it?"

Duke's suggestion can be said to be full of sincerity, giving Roland and Sif the most favorable treatment.

If you want to cooperate, you can get a higher long-term cooperation treatment. If you don't want to cooperate, you can terminate it at any time, and there is no penalty for breach of contract.

But this condition is a bit too generous, which makes Sif suddenly alert.

She lowered her voice and asked, "Mr. Duke, my mother said, don't believe in pie in the sky, even if most of them are poisonous. I want to know the real reason."

"The real reason?"

Duke paused for a moment, lowered his voice and asked, "Mr. Roland, if I'm not mistaken, you are the champion of the royal essay contest, right?"

"It's me."

Roland was not surprised to think that the Sun learned about the emperor's murder earlier than the Military Intelligence Bureau.

Although the Military Intelligence Bureau is nicknamed a bucket, it is at least a serious intelligence agency.

The Sun's intelligence channels are wider than the Military Intelligence Bureau, which shows their strength.

It's strange that they didn't recognize him.

"That's right, our boss admires your talent very much. When you entered the newspaper, he asked me to reach a cooperation. This is the real reason."

Is that so?

Roland and Sif looked at each other and accepted Duke's explanation.

Rupert, the owner of the Sun, is a core member of the Plantagenet family. Since he can recognize Roland, he must be able to recognize Sif.

It's reasonable for the loyal minister of the empire to take the initiative to show goodwill to Sif.

Sif hurriedly stood up and said softly, "Thank you Mr. Rupert for your kindness. We accept the cooperation agreement."

The signing was completed quickly.

The contract was made in triplicate, with Roland, Sif and Duke keeping one each.

After signing the contract, the two quickly said goodbye.

Duke, holding the contract, went upstairs and stood in the president's office. Before he could knock on the door, the thick door slowly opened.

A handsome, almost bewitching young man sat in the middle of the sofa, with a smile on his lips, and raised his right hand casually.

The contract in Duke's hand flew directly to the young man.

The door slowly closed.

Duke left quickly.

The boss doesn't like employees to talk too much, he knows the rules.

The handsome man came to the window, flipped through the contract casually, cast his eyes on Sif's carriage, and murmured:

"Sif, is your blood finally going to awaken?"

He then shook his head self-deprecatingly.

From Sif's current performance, it should not be.

Since there is no, the secret of the Plantagenet family has to be frozen for the time being.

He would not tell anyone that his family ancestors recognized the elven royal blood flowing in the Sussex royal family on the battlefield, and only then did they surrender.

How could the descendants of the elven generals swing their swords against the royal blood?

Even if they were unawakened royals.