Twenty-three-year-old young editor Paul Satti said his previous grievances were on the verge of explosion.

The publisher he works for is a leading and well-known company in the Kingdom of Lagrange. He publishes not only magazines and novels, but also academic books. Management is going well, and the salaries of employees are good. Just because I work here is enough to gain social credibility, Paul was also pleased with his good fortune when he decided to hire him.

But then for a few years, he bites off the mundane stuff every day.

I was thrust back by the editor-in-chief, along with cursing at the project proposal I had put together so hard on this day, that I felt indignant and the sound of my shoes was rough and down the stairs. I'm still in working hours, but I don't feel like going back to my desk very quietly. I was just about to get out of the workplace on the pretext of proper business and even change my mood at a destination cafe.

"Please, just look at it once"

As I came down to the first floor, I heard a slightly desperate woman from the reception. Your gaze turns to you for the signs of a mess. I get a quiet blue dress and straight brown hair that flows down from under my hat. From her voice and outfit, she would be a pretty young woman. He was eating hard at the clerk trying to chase him back.

"So he said we didn't do that"

"No, I saw the article on my recruitment. Something that said" Bring in "from time to time."

"No, that's why"

The receptionist looks fed up because he sees it and says it back horizontally.

"I need to get a proper reference. I don't care if they come all of a sudden."

"It didn't say I needed a reference... but what kind of person would I need a reference from"

You know you're not willing to deal with them as if, but your daughter doesn't give up and ask back. The clerk pounded his tongue on his ear and called in looking at the guard.

"Come on, look, tell him to leave already. Out of the way."

"Wait, I'll talk to you about your work, too"

"I'm not going to let you hang out with my kids. If you don't want to be called to the police, just get out of here."

The guard is also relieved of the fact that the target is a woman, but still forcefully grabs her arm and pulls her off the reception desk. The powerless daughter was lightly dragged and taken to the front door, where she was relentlessly thrown out.

"... hey Kevin, good luck"

In anticipation of the noise settling, Paul walks to the reception. The clerk looked at him and finally softened his expression.

"Paul. Are we going outdoors?

"Well, sort of. What was that? I heard you bring it in."

Oh, and the clerk shrugs his shoulders with a bitter smile.

"I'm here to sell my own novel."

"Why didn't you get the next one? I've never heard of a letter of introduction."

Speaking of novels, Paul's editorial director. It was none other than Paul himself who created a welcome recruitment article to bring in. Of course I don't need a reference or anything.

But the clerk returns it in the usual tone.

"But if I don't, I won't back off. Whether you say no or no, I'm persistently eating it down, and it's gone."

"So you wouldn't have to say no, would you? It's our job to determine if we can use it. Why don't we just take it from here?"

"You...... oh well"

There is contempt all over the clerk's face. That was directed not only against my daughter just now, but also at Paul himself.

"That's what I'm saying, so I'm not going up my salary. You can't normally think about it and accept bringing it in from a woman, can you? I can't write a decent novel to a woman. It's just a waste of time. If you get caught badly, Mr. Loran will beat you."

Being given the editor's name, Paul swallowed up his objections. Exactly the guy and I have just been arguing over similar issues. And Paul's opinion was unacceptable to pieces.

The editor is not the only one who is bigoted. It is a perception common to this publisher as a whole and, more importantly, to society as a whole. of Lagrange, one of the world's leading developed countries, plus the capital. The status of women was also low in Saint-Terre, known as the Capital of Culture, and the number of occupations available for work was limited. I can't be a judge, lawyer, accountant, etc., and newspapers and publishers are a complete men's society.

What they say with their mouths together was that women have no ability to think logically and rationally. Sure, there aren't many women like that, but there are plenty that can't even be men. Paul's idea that it would not be something that would generally be separated by gender was often overtaken by the crap of the weirdos.

It doesn't make sense to make the same argument to the clerk opponent here. That's a waste of time. Paul knocked on the counter and turned his back on the reception and headed to the front door early enough. People who drop him off like that still just shrug their shoulders with shame and mockery.

Paul went out onto the street and retreated his daughter. The splendid company house on ten floors faces the boulevard and the number of people walking around is high. It wasn't a standout outfit, and if I've already gone far, I wondered if I could find it - but I found it light. A blue dress and a plain hat still stood up just around the corner.

"Excuse me - uh, lady (Mademoiselle). Can I have a word?"

Paul rushed over to his daughter and spoke up. My daughter doesn't look back as if she didn't hear me, so I tap her shoulder gently. So I finally reacted and my thin shoulders jumped frighteningly.

"What, it's me? How can I help you?"

The face I looked back at was younger than I expected. Look up close, Paul is convinced. It wasn't just about gender. He's a kid, so I guess he didn't even deal with him.

The face under the hat belonged to a girl who made me wonder if she was even fifteen yet. Large glasses cover her calm brown eyes as well as her hair. I can't say she's cute, but she looks normal. Maybe the next time you go and see him, you won't notice. She was once the daughter of a mediocre impression, not characteristic of this.

"Sorry about our reception being a lot rude. Does it hurt your arm?

My eyes blink across my glasses at Paul's words. A mixed look emerged that enlightened, expectations and disappointments with the employees of the expelled publisher.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for coming."

I think Paul will answer properly. Once again, I took a good look at the girl and realized that seemingly discreet plain dresses and hats were pretty superior. Regardless of the appearance, the hair and skin are well cared for and tidy. The language was elegant and a beautiful pronunciation. The hand holding the large envelope tightly in front of his chest is beautiful and makes him peer that he has never worked or done chores. Apparently, that's the daughter of a wealthy house.

"... are you alone? There's no one for you."

If you're a good old girl in a house, you don't walk alone. It's normal to accompany a tutor or at least one of the small-time users, but I don't see anyone around who looks like that. My daughter nodded yes if I asked.

"I'm alone."

"I hope you're this young lady, you're careless."

Paul laid his hands on his hips in awe. No matter how many crowded places in the daytime, it's not something a rich lady wanders around on her own. There's a lot of people out there trying to pull it off, and there's a lot of people out there looking like normal passers-by.

"You're not gonna tell me you ran away from home or anything."

"Well, hell no. I'll go home properly.... Um, is that all you need?

Though I had my hopes for being called off, I seemed discouraged because Paul only spoke of apologies and small words. The girl's eyebrows seem to sag down. "Oh, I'm sorry," Paul waved gently.

"Of course it's about your carry-on manuscript... but yeah, if you have time, why don't you go to the cafe? I apologize for earlier."

"Can you look at it?

Occasionally, the light floats all over my brown eyes. Paul revealed his perception that he was so expressive and adorable when we talked about it. Standing in silence is going to inadvertently miss it as part of the landscape, but the plain figure you can't seem to be is just superficial. Similar to pseudomorphic and protective colors for insects and animals to protect themselves. If you move it out, you'll get out of the landscape and you'll see your personality.

"I'd like you to show me if you like. I just have to say no first, but maybe we can't use it. It's not a question of making a piece. They're all stiff heads up and down there, and they're not willing to work with women. I'd like to introduce you to something else, but I think it's probably the same everywhere..."

"Again, you are..."

The girl drops her shoulder. I thought I could squeeze again, but I immediately looked up and looked straight up at Paul.

"But you're going to read it, aren't you?

"to the point of pointing out the problem, but hopefully still"

"Yeah, it's cool. I, the experts, wanted you to read it and guide me. Until now, I've only had about as many family and friends read it, and they all normally just share their thoughts, and I don't know such a professional thing about where to fix it. Uh, yes, I wanted to hear from you."

"Oh, yeah."

"Please don't hesitate to give us your feedback! You're welcome to relentlessly pull me down. If you know what's wrong, you can't go up there."

Do you want to go up there? Paul went crazy, even as he sailed to the girl's momentum. Earlier on, I just got kicked back by a candlestick, but I haven't turned it up at all. I can't use it just to read it, even if I preface that it won't be dealt with by other publishers, I still won't give up. I was quite fond of my guts. Yeah, if you give up as soon as you're a little turned down, that's about it. I can't give up, my enthusiasm to keep going will produce results. If you're going for a difficult path for a woman, it has to be about that.

"Shall we go then? Because it's a store right there. Yeah, I say Paul Satti. I edited the novel department, but my boss yelled at me for not helping me."

If I named myself after sarcasm and self-derision, the girl also revealed her expression.

"Excuse me, my name is Mariel Clarac. Best regards,"

Drop your hips and squirt elegantly. It was a perfectly natural, cartesy on a board. I have the impression that I jumped a little well, but I can see that it would have been tapped in from a very young age, rather than appearance imitation, etc. Paul knows wealthy middle class daughters too because he has dealt with all sorts of people. They were mobbing the same way. But those memories, and the daughter in front of them now, seem alike and do not overlap.

"... Miss Clarak."

"Not to mention. Please, call me Mariel."

I didn't mean to be conceited, I wasn't nervous, I just said hi for granted. The girl smiles with such a face. I can't say she's beautiful, she's a wild looking daughter, but the goodness of the product is real. I got a bad feeling about Paul's chest.

No way, you don't say nobility or anything.

That can't be right. There's no way a noble princess, no matter how much, is walking alone in a place like this. Impossible, I deny my thoughts. Yes, it was an impossible story. If normal.

But there are always exceptions to things. There are also strangers in the nobility, like Paul, who is one rebellion within the company where female contempt is treated with common sense. It didn't take long, and Paul was going to figure it out.