Contract Empress

A. What the heck is this?

That day the sky was very clear and bright.

The sun was showing off its presence, blazing so hard that it hurt my eyes.

There was no sign of rain.

Kim Yeo-ju. 24 years old. The only daughter of a struggling writer.

If I were to describe myself in one simple sentence, it would definitely be this one.

The Marquis, who is now nothing but a figurehead, was once renowned as a founding father, but that was only for a short time.

Soon after, it began to decline under the influence of previous generations of marquises who were intoxicated by the taste of power and pleasure.

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"I can't give it to you this month either. I'm sorry, maid."

ํ•˜๋…€์žฅ

"I'm fine, so don't worry and get well soon."

As I listened to the small sounds coming from beyond the door, I felt a sound I didn't want to hear coming through the door and into my ears.

Months of unpaid wages had already passed, and my mother was lying in bed, wasting her time. Even with a small amount of government support, it was still difficult to feed the family of three.

In particular, I have repeatedly told the head maid who has been working for the writer's house for 20 years that she should quit and that I will give her a severance pay, but she has not even listened and has been doing her own work silently.

He said he wanted to stay here because he felt sorry for the youth he had dedicated to this place.

๊น€์—ฌ์ฃผ

"I miss my father..."

He leaned against the dusty bookshelf and let out a sigh.

Maybe it was because this place, the study, was the place most steeped in my father's scent, but it felt so familiar and warm. It brought tears to my eyes.

A brown wooden desk and chair that are old and no longer useful.

I remembered sitting next to my father and chatting away while reading a book when I was little, and before I knew it, I was in tears - hot water droplets fell on the dry, worn-out cover of the book.

I was thinking about my father for a while when I suddenly started to worry about living expenses.

๊น€์—ฌ์ฃผ

"Ah... what should I do? I've already spent all the money I saved."

The road ahead felt bleak. Debt was mounting, and income was woefully inadequate. And then there was my mother's medical bills.

I really felt that just breathing costs money.

dripping-

There was a brisk knock on the door and the maid opened the door and came in.

ํ•˜๋…€์žฅ

"Miss Yeoju, I have a letter for you."

๊น€์—ฌ์ฃผ

"A letter? Was there something coming?"

ํ•˜๋…€์žฅ

"That's... a letter from the palace."

๊น€์—ฌ์ฃผ

"That's ridiculous. Why in the imperial court? A letter to me?"

Did he open the envelope with such doubts?

What it contains is,

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"Will you marry me?"

There was only a brief marriage proposal.

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Hello! I am writer Mangtaekku.

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Following yesterday's prologue, today I brought you another episode with Ssong Ssong!

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This work is scheduled to be serialized at least three times a week.

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If you are in good condition, you can raise it even higher.

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Don't worry, the quality doesn't decrease just because the quantity increases.

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Have a nice weekend and see you next week.

Number of characters๐Ÿ’: 1394