Lucia Barton, the illustrator of “The Little Prince,” had been going through some tough times recently.

“A drawing of a fox spreading its arms for a hug…?”

“Yes, that’s right. The client promises not to skimp on the reward, and if you need it for your creative activities, unlimited support is also possible.”

Wealthy patrons had started demanding deformed animal drawings—specifically, ones of a talking fox, alongside their offers of sponsorship.

All they wanted was one thing: more fox drawings.

A tidal wave of sponsorship money, in amounts she had never even dreamed of, was pouring down on her.

“But I’m not even a professional painter…?”

“Didn’t you illustrate the novel ‘The Little Prince’?”

“Well, that was just because I got to contribute to a work by an author I admire…”

The real issue was that Lucia Barton wasn’t a professional artist in the first place.

She had read “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” for fun, decided to enter an illustration contest, and then readily accepted a request to illustrate another of that author’s works.

“I can’t accept such money… I’m really not that impressive as an artist…”

“Please accept it. If creating the artwork is too challenging, you can at least take the sponsorship money.”

When she got involved with the illustration work, she thought it would just be a cool experience.

So this current situation—sponsorships and illustration requests flooding in—felt unbelievably overwhelming.

“I-I’ll ask the author first!”

With that, Lucia bolted.

She ran straight back to where it all started: Kindersley Publishing.

—

When she arrived at the publisher’s office, she heard from President Dorling that the illustrator was facing a dilemma.

“So, that’s what’s happening.”

“Yes! The illustrator seems to be quite troubled…”

Art has always been ruled by the wealthy.

Popes, nobles, royalty, merchants…

And in this world, there’s another kind of ‘wealthy breed.’

“The sponsors must be beastmen, right?”

“They’ve expressed their intent through an agent… so yes, probably.”

Beastmen.

Known as half-humans, they were a discriminated class in the Empire.

They couldn’t join the assembly or hold titles.

Yet, because of their discrimination, they possessed a strong internal solidarity. They were shrewdly engaged in businesses like usury and mining, raking in enormous amounts of cash.

They had plenty of dough but no honor. If they could buy honor with their moolah, they’d spend it by the boatload!

That’s the deal with beastmen.

“So, does Ms. Lucia Barton have no intention of keeping up her art?”

“It doesn’t seem like it… She’s overwhelmed by the hefty sponsorships since she thought she was just drawing for fun…”

“I see. Hmm. I can understand how the beastmen feel, but… this is tricky.”

Beastmen’s clumsy hands were unsuitable for drawing, and human artists considered illustrating for beastmen as something beneath them.

For those beastmen, even the artists who’d starve without their sponsorship,

the newbie illustrator of ‘The Little Prince’ must’ve looked like a prime target. They’d probably want to recruit her even if it set them back millions!

After some careful thought, I gingerly spoke up.

“Did you say the illustrator feels burdened by the sponsorship?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“In that case, how about we approach it from a business angle instead of sponsorship?”

“A business angle?”

“Let’s dive into character merchandising!”

“Character merchandising…?”

Character merchandising: the expansion of character IP that completely flipped the script in the cultural industry.

“It looks like the president will have to pull some strings. You up for it?”

“I’m not completely sure what that means, but of course! I’ll do anything if it helps the author!”

The sweet magic of turning art into cash.

I thought it might be a tad early for this, but this would surely take literature to the next level.

—

Various products featuring characters from “The Little Prince” were created.

Thanks to suspiciously affluent patrons, the influence of the work “The Little Prince,” the illustrator’s flair, and Dorling Kindersley’s business savvy, character merchandise was available all over the Empire in no time.

“Mom! Buy me that cup!”

“A cup? Oh wow, it has The Little Prince on it! How much is this beauty?”

“One silver coin!”

“What? That’s pretty pricey! Hmm, but it would look nice as a decoration… I’ll take one.”

“Excellent choice!”

Buying products featuring The Little Prince quickly became the new hot trend.

Each product featured different illustrations, leading collectors to start gathering the various illustrated merchandise.

But the item that really caught everyone’s attention was something else entirely.

“Buy bread and receive a stamp illustrated with The Little Prince!”

“What? Seriously?”

“Absolutely! We’ll throw in stamps with the fox, the prince, the rose, and several other illustrations!”

“Whoa, hand me that loaf of bread!”

That was the draw: the stamps.

Stamp collecting was already a major hobby, with people dedicating time and money to it professionally.

These stamps weren’t sold directly. Instead, they were randomly included with other products like packaged bread and cookies.

“Give me all the bread!”

“Um, sir, I’m sorry, but the limited edition bread featuring The Little Prince is limited to four per person.”

“What? Why’s that?”

“It’s to prevent food waste. We appreciate your understanding.”

Stamp collectors, resellers, and fans of The Little Prince swarmed to get these stamps, sending their prices skyrocketing.

Rare stamps featuring unique illustrations sold for gold coins at auctions.

“Already out of bread?”

“Please, just let me buy one loaf!”

The Little Prince was reigning over the Empire.

—

“…Author, are you a genius? No, you must be one. I can’t believe I asked such an obvious question…”

“Well, uh, I didn’t expect it to blow up like this either.”

With the popularity of The Little Prince merchandise, I, the original author, ended up raking in outrageous profits.

Profits that exceeded the sponsorship I received from His Highness.

Even after dividing the spoils among the illustrator, the merchants, and President Dorling, the amount that landed in my pocket was hefty.

“Since I met you, author, every single day has felt like a surprise party.”

Dorling exclaimed, his voice laced with admiration, but internally, I was a bit anxious about the whole thing. The current hype around character merchandise definitely had a bubble feel to it.

Once the trend fizzled out, the high-flying stamp prices would nosedive. And in that process, the folks who took a hit would undoubtedly blame ‘The Little Prince.’

The name of the most beloved fairy tale in history would be tarnished by speculation. That’s not what I wanted at all.

“… President.”

“Yes! Author!”

“Let’s do something good this time.”

“…What?”

The Little Prince should only remain a beloved work.

—

Most orphanages in this world are run by priests. Religion acts as the social safety net in place of the state.

“Wow, Head Priest! What’s all this? Why are there so many types of bread? And they all seem rather upscale…”

“An anonymous brother donated them.”

The ‘Mission of Love Orphanage’ was one such institution. It was famous for being run with a noble and honest spirit, even if the church’s minimal support kept its budget tight.

And thus, a heap of assorted goods and bread was donated to this orphanage.

“In exchange for donating the bread, they asked us to collect the stamps inside the packaging.”

“Oh! This is the ‘Little Prince’ bread that’s all the rage in the capital these days, isn’t it?”

“The Little Prince… Thanks to that beautiful fairy tale, we’re receiving this lovely help. What a blessing!”

“Hehe, exactly! The kids will adore this… Truly… sniff…”

“Sister, why are you crying on such a beautiful day?”

“It’s just… I’m so happy… I always felt sorry for giving the children nothing but hard black bread… *sniff*…”

“Ha-ha.”

“Could it be… that author Homer… is a saint chosen by the Lord?”

“Well, who knows? It’s possible the Lord sent someone for this land…”

Similar events were happening all over the Empire.

—

“Author…”

“Yes, President.”

“Can I take a moment to sing your praises…?”

“No.”

“You’re a god!”

“That’s heresy.”

What I proposed to President Dorling was simple.

If anyone donated to an orphanage, a poorhouse, or a nursing home—any social welfare facility—we’d lift the purchase restrictions on ‘The Little Prince limited edition products.’

It was a simple yet effective method.

Many wealthy patrons happily donated bread to orphanages to get their hands on those stamps.

“Not just bread donations, but in many cases, folks pledged regular support for the orphanages as well! All thanks to your brilliant idea, author!”

The Empire was home to countless social welfare facilities run by churches, and most suffered from financial hardships.

In this day and age, when faith didn’t hold as much weight, finding sponsors was tough.

But The Little Prince completely flipped that atmosphere. So much bread was donated that some kids in the orphanages ended up with tummy aches from overeating!

“Some churches are even suggesting they should consider beatifying you, author!”

“No way, I’m not even a priest; why would they beatify me…”

“It just shows how amazing your contribution has been!”

Dorling’s fuss was still a bit overwhelming, but for some reason, it felt nice.