Arc 1: Bibliophile Princess

Act 1: False Fiancée

When I heard an echo of familiar laughter, my foot nearly slipped from the ladder rung. Surprised, I looked down, peering out a window that had been left open for ventilation. I could see two shadows beneath the trees of the palace’s inner garden. One belonged to someone I knew well—the heir to Sauslind Kingdom’s throne, Prince Christopher. At the young age of twenty-one, he was both noble and wise, with a promising future ahead of him.

Normally His Highness took full advantage of his rank and appearance, charming ladies of all ages, while bringing cunning nobles to heel with his keen discernment. He was well-known for his youthful, kingly disposition. It was this man, always guarded, always dignified, whose carefree—defenseless—laughter now filled the air.

As someone who’d been by his side for four years now and (pardon me for being presumptuous enough to say as much) knew his character well, I was flummoxed at what I saw.

He was a prince, but he was also human. There were times when he acted his age, laughing and cracking jokes. That side of him was usually reserved for the closest of his inner circle, however.

Inner garden or not, it was still located within a palace rife with schemes and political maneuvering. You never knew who might be watching. My heart ached with a sharp, heavy pain seeing him so defenseless.

Then I let out a quiet sigh.

The time had finally come.

~.~.~.~

My name is Elianna Bernstein, the daughter of a noble family graced with the marquess rank in the Sauslind Kingdom. But my titles don’t stop there, for I have another attached to my name that other noble ladies do not. I’m the fiancée of Sauslind’s Crown Prince, Prince Christopher.

Four years ago, at the age of fourteen, I left the remote countryside to step into the radiant capital and make my debut into high society. It was then, overwhelmed by the dazzling noble ladies and their daughters, that I was summoned (for some reason) to stand beside Prince Christopher as his betrothed.

While the Bernstein family did hold the rank of marquess, our political weight put us below the bottom rungs of the earl families. If you’re wondering why the crown prince would select the daughter of such a family as his bride-to-be, well...unfortunately, it wasn’t for the kind of heart-pounding romance that might excite the ladies of the world. Nor was it my blinding beauty or anything so fanciful that might appear in the dreams of a starry-eyed maiden.

No, I had faded blonde hair with slight curls and similarly dull gray eyes. My features were praised as adorable by my family but earned me disgraceful nicknames from others. I was simply a plain Jane, nothing particularly desirable about me. Prince Christopher was my complete opposite, with hair that shone like sunlight, eyes like a cloudless blue sky, prominent, stunning facial features, and a presence that lit up whatever room he entered.

So why was someone like me chosen for a position—so coveted by other marriageable noble ladies—as the crown prince’s fiancée? Well, simply because it was convenient. Our house wasn’t aligned with any of the political factions of the court, nor did we count any troublesome people of influence among our relatives. Plus, my father and brother didn’t have any interest in power (though in a way, that might disqualify them as nobles of the court). Since I didn’t hold affections for any particular individual either, I was selected as a way of reestablishing balance in a court whose political factions were vying for supremacy.

When we first met each other, Prince Christopher had glistened brilliantly as he said, “Lady Elianna, you need only stay by my side and read your books.”

My family was famous for producing a long line of book-lovers. One of our ancestors had opened a regional library in our territory and made it widely available for public access. The vast, colorful assortment of rare tomes that it contained, collected by generations of marquesses, was said to rival that of the royal library’s selection. The Bernstein family was full of eccentrics that would take a good book over having three meals a day.

I was no exception. I’d been buried in books ever since I learned to read. Where other ladies preferred dresses and jewels, I liked novel books. This had earned me a nickname that any normal girl might lament as shameful—not the more endearing alternative, “bookworm,” but rather, “Bibliophile Princess.”

Bibliophile Princess I may be, but even I knew the prince’s proposal was bizarre. For a moment I misunderstood and got the absurd idea he was selecting me to read books aloud to him. When I tilted my head in confusion, the prince went on to cite the advantages for the Bernstein family in the impending factional conflict and power struggle, presenting his demands as a business deal.

“To be perfectly frank,” he said, “if I don’t decide on a bride quickly, my mother and others around me will become insufferable.” Then he went on, “So what will it be, Lady Elianna? Now that you have made your societal debut and are of marriageable age, you won’t be able to avoid your obligations as a noble. You could settle with some other noble’s son, be forced to oversee his household affairs, all the while being dragged into the noble ladies’ social gatherings. However, wouldn’t you prefer to stay by my side and live life just reading books?”

“...Haah.”

I could more easily imagine the mental exhaustion I’d face as the betrothed of the crown prince before me than I could the hardships of being a future nobleman’s wife. Just to be clear, I realize that reaction might come off as rude toward our country’s handsome heir-to-be, but those of the Bernstein family were equally dispassionate toward anything that wasn’t a book. By that standard, it was a rather normal response from me.

Prince Christopher offered a charming smile. “If you become my fiancée, you’ll be able to turn down those engagement parties and dance parties, increasing your available reading time.” Then he amended, “Of course, you will still have to attend public events and events hosted by the royal family.”

Regardless of my opinion, there was no way a puny house such as mine could reject a request from the crown. Even someone as ignorant of the world such as I knew that his proposal was unprecedented. Basically, he was offering me, a simple noble lady, a loveless transaction.

“...I appreciate the kind offer. I was concerned for the hardships that would eventually befall me and felt melancholy over the loss of reading time I would face.”

The prince grinned, his next words like the seductive whisperings of the devil. “Besides, once you have the title of my betrothed to add to your name, you will be free to enter the royal archives, where you’ll be able to peruse and borrow to your heart’s content.”

Printed words flowed through the veins of the Bernstein family. As the daughter of said house, there was no way I wouldn’t jump at such a tempting prospect.

The royal archive, as its name implied, differed from the royal library. Access was limited to only those within the royal palace, and it held the crown’s personal, prized collection. A holy land for any book-lover.

That was the reason my father and brother—who’d sooner lock themselves away in our territory and live comfortably as custodians of the regional library, immersed in books—reluctantly worked inside the royal palace. I’d always listened eagerly as they told me about the crown’s collection of rare tomes. Now I would be able to see them for myself, touch them myself, and have access to an unexplored world. There was no greater bliss than that for a book-lover.

Prince Christopher offered a dazzling smile of his own when he saw my face beaming with joy, eyes alight. “Then our engagement is decided. I’ll be free from the nuisance of searching for a bride, and you’ll be free from your shackles as a noble lady. And in exchange for burdening you with the duty of being my betrothed, I’ll make absolutely sure your free time remains uninterrupted.”

For the first time, my heart pounded the same way it did when I touched a brand new book.

The prince was true to his word. After our engagement was announced, he ensured I could read my books freely, unburdened by my new position. I was skeptical from the outset, particularly in the beginning when the queen and her entourage incessantly invited me to their tea parties, the court ladies hounded me with their questions, and the high-ranking nobles yanked me this way and that with their expectations. Fortunately, the prince and his associates quickly (and cleverly) put an end to all that.

I’d spent the ensuing four years free from incident as the prince’s betrothed in name only, never really appearing in front of others. But now his true intentions were beginning to become clear to me. It matched the whispers going around as of late as well. Whispers that said the Bibliophile Princess was indeed a fake fiancée, and that the reason the prince still hadn’t gone through with an official marriage despite my coming of age was because, now that the political power struggle had calmed, he could finally welcome his true love to court—the real princess he’d longed for.

Rumors couldn’t be accepted at face value, but I also knew the reality which served as definitive proof. In Sauslind Kingdom, men and women were considered adults when they reached the age of eighteen. Provided their partner was an adult and it didn’t offend society’s sensibilities, a woman could be wed while she was still underage. But the prince had been non-committal, extending our engagement on the basis that I was still “too young.” There were no talks about an official wedding, not even now that I’d reached adulthood. That only reinforced the credibility of the rumors.

There was nothing to be done about it. Ultimately, what the prince and I had agreed upon was a mutually beneficial engagement. A girl who hadn’t even undertaken princess training couldn’t be made a princess. There existed no romantic feelings between us, just a shared struggle against societal pressures placed on men and women of our positions. And now I could see it as clearly as if I’d read it in a story—the day the prince would annul our engagement had come.

The girl accompanying His Highness was the daughter of a viscount, and she had just recently entered the inner palace for etiquette lessons. Noble ladies entered the palace for such lessons for a variety of reasons. Some as part of bridal training before their wedding, some for added prestige before a marriage proposal, and some as a part of job hunting. Although they were the daughters of noblemen, there were a number of houses in such circumstances where a lady would have to seek employment. From what I heard, positions associated with the palace, such as maid or court lady, were particularly well sought after. There was honor in serving those of higher rank, as well as the opportunity to acquaint oneself with promising lords working at the palace. And for some, the chance to fall in love with a prince, just like in a romance novel.

The name of this viscount’s daughter was Lady Irene Palcas. Talk about her had grown recently, and I’d encountered her myself a number of times. The first time I spotted her was in the royal archives. Though it really all began when I overheard the staff members in the archive talking about her. “There’s this really adorable lady who just recently began etiquette lessons here,” they said.

The lady to whom they referred had soft chestnut-colored hair, bright brown eyes that would captivate anyone who looked into them, and a soprano voice that filled the air wherever she went. One so sweet you’d never tire of hearing it. She was warm, sociable, and overflowing with charisma. She seemed to be my exact opposite, a true lady. I began to remember her face after seeing her stop by the archives a number of times on errands.

Our first real encounter happened when I discovered one of the archive’s ladders had been damaged and was searching for a person to whom I could report the problem. I heard the echo of voices coming from the break room and peeked my head in. Inside, the smell of tea leaves hung thick as heavy perfume. I spotted a tea set in disarray, a panicked Irene standing beside it.

“Oh, I was so careless... Forgive me, Prince Theodore,” she said.

“No, it’s nothing, really,” answered Prince Theodore, the curator of the archives. Although he was the younger brother of the king, the age gap between Prince Theodore and His Majesty was so great it seemed more appropriate to think of him as Prince Christopher’s older brother instead. He was still single, despite his royal status—a popular, charming man in the prime of his life with stunning dark golden brown hair and ultramarine eyes.

“More importantly,” he continued, “you weren’t injured, were you, Lady Irene?”

“No, I’m not, but...whatever shall we do about this? I’m afraid I’ve soiled someone’s book. This title is popular among the women of the working class district, no? Is there really someone within the royal palace who would favor such literature?” Her voice was thick with genuine skepticism.

The book in question, now covered in tea leaves, was popular with the masses. Penned by a housewife in a fishing village, it provided an interesting—and sometimes emotionally heartrending—account of her daily life.

I peeked my head in the door, feeling awkward, and spoke up. “Um... That’s my book.”

Members of the Bernstein family didn’t value printed works based on the rank of those who wrote them, but the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the nobility. I felt ashamed hearing the disbelief in her voice, as if she couldn’t imagine this could be the favorite book of the prince’s bride-to-be.

“Oh goodness,” she murmured, cutely pressing her hand over her mouth. Then hastily she added, “Please forgive me, Lady Elianna! I was careless and soiled your book! I am truly, truly sorry!”

Did she think I was angry because she’d spilled tea leaves on my book?

Before I could dispel the misconception, Prince Theodore cut in with a sigh. “Lady Elianna’s negligence is to blame here. She knows not to leave her personal belongings unattended. You needn’t apologize so profusely.” He first comforted the cowering Lady Irene and then said to me, “Leave the book with me. I will clean up this mess. Hurry and be on your way, Lady Elianna. And do be more careful next time.”

His curt tone left little room for discussion. It was all I could do to inform him of the damaged ladder before leaving the archives behind.

After that incident, I often spotted Lady Irene trying to foster good relations with Prince Theodore. I’d also noticed her, just two weeks prior, engaging in friendly smalltalk with Glen Eisenach, a red-haired knight who was part of the Imperial Guard and also the prince’s bodyguard. Not an especially strange sight to see; Lord Glen was a bright, charming individual, popular among both men and women.

But when I next saw her together with Alexei Strasser—son of a duke and the prince’s right-hand man, referred to in whispers as the “Ice Scion”—I was a bit surprised. Lord Alexei, as his nickname might imply, had black hair with icy blue eyes and an astute aura about him. He was equally indifferent to everyone regardless of rank, whether it be a beautiful noblewoman or nobleman of greater status. Thus it was rare for me to see anyone able to engage with him so openly.

I also heard hushed whispers that she was personally close to the court’s master musician, Alan Ferrera, a popular Adonis type with honey-colored hair. At the time, I didn’t think much about it; her reputation among other ladies seemed a bit dreadful, but being acquainted with such a cast of popular young men would be enough to draw both ire and envy. But from an outsider’s perspective, His Highness and Lady Irene gave off an air of intimacy, and the way she looked at him with such single-minded devotion made the unspoken clear. She had feelings for the prince.

So that’s it, I thought, only now realizing. It may be rude to say as much, but a certain proverb came to mind. “To shoot the general, you must first begin with his horse.” My noble birth aside, as someone who loved books and often holed myself up in my room to read them, her exceptional networking skills seemed praiseworthy. As the prince’s betrothed, I should be the one displaying such prowess.

Did Lady Irene lay the groundwork to approach His Highness, or were the men around him showing such consideration for her because she’d drawn his interest? I couldn’t be sure. I was, however, certain about one thing: the relationship between these two hadn’t started recently. The way he laughed so joyously and smiled at her told me that much.

“Lady Elianna?”

Someone’s voice abruptly cut in, dragging me back to my senses. At some point I had dismounted from the ladder and the voices in the rear garden had disappeared. I suddenly realized I’d been a daze this whole time.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?” The deep rumbling voice inquiring after my wellbeing belonged to Prince Theodore, the royal archive’s curator. He wasn’t much for words under ordinary circumstances, but since I began visiting the archives frequently, we’d grown close enough to speak openly.

Before I could bring my panicked brain under control, he spotted the book in my arms and the ladder behind me, and knitted his brows. “I believe I told you just the other day to call someone to assist if you wanted a book off the higher shelves.”

He was right. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a noblewoman to clamber up and down a ladder herself. I muttered an apology.

Prince Theodore breathed a sigh. He was already busy enough lately as it was, and now I’d become the target of his exasperation. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting the palace today. What happened to your bodyguards? This may be the palace, but you mustn’t go around unattended.”

“Yes, my apologies.”

I felt like an unruly student being scolded by their teacher. Up until this point, he’d been one of the few who showed understanding toward my unladylike behavior, but perhaps his patience had worn thin.

“Does Chris know that you’re here at the palace?” he asked.

“...No.”

I hadn’t been to the palace in five days. My aunt injured her hip, and I’d been looking after her, at least in theory. In truth, she was just borrowing me as a conversation partner so she could kill time. This had drawn me away from the book I wanted to read, and instead I’d been forced to endure the drudgery that was reading love stories and poetry collections that my aunt had recommended aloud and at length. Today I finally slipped away from that slog and made my way here to the archives to retrieve my longed-for tome, only to witness the aforementioned scene.

Prince Theodore sighed once more. “Then go home quickly,” he said curtly, chasing me out of the archives.

My chest prickled with pain. Prince Theodore was the only one outside my family with whom I could discuss books. I had hoped when we met today that I could ask about the book he was holding.

I trudged down the corridor.

Access to the archives had been increasingly restrictive this past month. I had been given free access to visit as the prince’s betrothed, but even the workers there that I used to converse with now acted distant and shooed me from the books. I suspected they were handling older tomes, since they were all wearing gloves, and volunteered to help, but they turned me down flat. They acted almost as if I couldn’t be trusted with handling the books there, and that saddened me greatly.

I understood now though, after seeing the prince and Lady Irene. The workers probably sensed that he had someone special in mind now and were trying to put distance between themselves and me, knowing our engagement would be annulled. The same could be said about the events in the rose garden ten days ago, come to think of it.

One of our regular tea parties was planned that day in the rose garden. I was late in arriving, held back by the chief herbalist who’d come to return a book. At the behest of the male servant attending me, we hurried to the garden. Clamor from that direction came to greet us as we approached, in the form of Lady Irene and a number of maids.

“If it isn’t Lady Elianna!”

I flinched at her reproachful tone and strong gaze.

“And just where were you? Everyone was waiting for you,” she huffed.

No matter the reason, I was the one at fault for being late.

“My apologies,” I said. “I was delayed by another engagement. Did something happen?”

There were damp splotches peppered across her hair and clothes, but I needed only glance out the corridor to see it was sunny outside.

Lady Irene flinched and dropped her intense gaze, shivering as if she only now remembered the cold of her wet clothes. “That was disrespectful for someone of my rank to say. And disgraceful for me to show myself in front of you like this. Please, have mercy on me!”

Excuse me? I tilted my head in confusion. She’d only spoken the truth. I saw no reason for her to abase herself on my account. More importantly, if she didn’t change out of those clothes quickly, she’d catch cold. Before I could mention as much, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Lady Elianna!”

I glanced to discover a red-haired knight, Lord Glen, the alarm clear on his face as he dashed over. He was even more drenched than Lady Irene and her maids. He studied me closely, eyes traveling up and down my body as if something had happened to me, but it wasn’t until he spotted my manservant nearby that he finally let out a sigh of relief. “So that’s it...” he muttered bitterly to himself.

I shrank under his withering gaze. He must be disappointed in me for having the gall to keep everyone waiting on my account, must think it unbefitting of Prince Christopher’s fiancée.

“Lord Glen,” Lady Irene began, in a voice much softer than she had used with me, as if to calm him, “you must change out of that quickly. No matter how capable of a knight you may be, you will still catch a cold if you stay in that.”

Her soothing tone earned a sigh from him. “You needn’t worry about me, my lady. You’re also soaked yourself. I’d like to talk to you about what transpired. Allow me to see you to your room.” Lord Glen called a nearby guard and gave him strict instructions to escort me home. His gaze was more intense than I’d ever seen it before as he informed me, “The tea party has been canceled. The palace is in an uproar right now, so His Highness has his hands full. Please return to your residence for today.”

“But...” I started to protest. I wanted him to at least hear the reason for my delay. Besides, it would reflect poorly on the prince if I didn’t deliver my apologies to the guests. But there was a rare unsettling aura about Lord Glen that gave no room for dissent, so the words hung unspoken.

Lord Glen and Lady Irene began chatting amongst themselves as they left, and the guard who delivered me back home informed me there had been a plumbing failure in the rose garden. It wasn’t until I arrived back at our estate that I realized it had always been Lord Glen who had escorted me up until now. That day marked the beginning of me noticing the absence of things I’d grown accustomed to.

It all made sense, reflecting back on things now—from the way Prince Theodore had acted so formal and curt, putting distance between us, to the way Lord Glen went from smiling welcomingly at me to politely drawing a line between us.

Four years had passed since Prince Christopher named me his betrothed. I had interacted with all of the people close to him. Lord Glen, the red-headed knight, always acted warm and welcoming (unlike you might expect for someone in the palace), always willing to help me carry my books. Alexei, the Ice Scion, firmly believed in using any tools at his disposal (including his own parents) and often had me doing errands for him, such as delivering messages or sorting documents, when I wasn’t actively invested in a book of my own.

There was a time when the four (or even five) of us, including His Highness, would banter and crack jokes together, and for the first time I had found something outside of books fun and enjoyable. It wouldn’t be long now before Lady Irene would be taking my place, I was sure. No, perhaps it was too late and I’d lost my place with them already. After all, the prince had let his mask down in front of her.

“...Oh dear.”

My feet stopped halfway down the corridor, one hand pressed tight against my chest. It felt as if a gaping hole had opened there. Even as dull-headed as I was, I realized then that I was in shock. The sight of the prince laughing was seared into the back of my eyelids and wouldn’t go away, alongside the image of him and Lady Irene looking so intimate, drawn together beneath the trees.

I’d had a vague inkling that this day might come, but now that it was actually upon me, it was worse than I had imagined, with all the impact of a cannonball. In these past four years, I’d grown greatly attached to all of them and the time we’d shared.

I was a fiancée in name only, a temporary placeholder to be removed when the prince found someone he truly loved. That’s all I was. All I was supposed to be.

It was strange. My heart twisted so tight it brought me to tears. Me, the Bibliophile Princess. A sense of loss ate at me from the inside, one I hadn’t experienced since my mother passed away when I was six. I softly stroked the book in my other hand. Books had always consoled me in times like these. This one in particular I had received just six days ago from Prince Christopher. It had been a bright afternoon...

Ever since the incident in the rose garden, the prince and Lord Glen had a tense aura about them. I, myself, felt unpleasant about the situation. I was reading a book as I always did when the prince called out to me, carrying a gentle aura about him.

“I have a gift,” he said.

I tilted my head ever so slightly. The prince didn’t often bring me gifts anymore. I always shuddered whenever we had a dance party or outing and he presented lavish gifts of clothing or accessories (all for the purpose of keeping up appearances as the crown prince’s betrothed).

How many books could you buy for the same price as this piece of jewelry?

The question never left my lips, but the prince must not have seen fit to empty the treasury on account of his false fiancée, for shortly thereafter he ceased presenting me with such extravagant pieces. Thus it was rare for him to present any gifts, and my heart fluttered from the novelty.

Prince Christopher beamed as he always did, holding out an unwrapped tome. “A Record of the Downfall of the Kai Arg Empire - Astrologian’s Edition. You wanted a book on the old empire that wasn’t written by a historian, yes? There aren’t very many copies in circulation out there so it was a bit of a hard find, but...I finally found it and wanted to hand it to you as soon as I could. I thought you’d enjoy it.” He spoke with a gentle smile on his face, his eyes monitoring my reaction in earnest.

I was immediately at a loss for words, trembling with emotion. The book he’d obtained on my behalf was an extremely difficult one to find, even with my family’s connections, and I’d nearly given up on it. Now as I saw it before me, I was overcome with shock and emotion. More than anything, I was delighted that the prince would use his time and resources to go to the trouble of hunting it down for me.

The feel of the foreign letters embossed on the cover as my hand ghosted over it made my heart flutter once again. “Thank you, Prince Christopher.” I wasn’t sure how better to convey my joy beyond those words. It was all I could do to gaze back at him, eyes trembling with emotion.

“Good,” he grinned happily, as if relieved to see I was pleased.

Recalling the happiness I felt back then helped soothe the emptiness I felt now. Even if the prince had someone he truly loved, someone he could be completely authentic with, and even if our engagement was annulled, Prince Christopher was not the type to treat me cruelly. Instead of waiting for the end to come, I summoned what little courage I had and decided to ask him myself.

~.~.~.~

While I spent most of my time in the royal archives, the prince’s office was a close second. Entering such a place when I was merely his betrothed could present a number of problems, so I’d initially rejected his invitation, but then the prince had said, “This is the best place for you to be able to read completely uninterrupted.” And when I took him up on that offer, I discovered he was right. The room was cut off from the noise of the outside world. It really made me feel like he was honoring his initial promise.

When I made a request of the chamberlain (with whom I was well-acquainted) to let me see His Highness, the man was terribly flustered. Was the prince receiving an important guest? I realized what was going on only after the door to the neighboring conference room popped open and a serving maid stepped out. A charming voice spilled out with her.

“I never realized you were so interested in handiwork, Prince Christopher.”

“That’s only because the way you talk about it is so intriguing, Lady Irene.”

“Dear me,” she giggled delightedly.

Their words pierced me through the heart, though I wasn’t sure at first whether to attribute the blame for that to the prince or Lady Irene. But Prince Christopher’s words followed soon enough, as if pouring salt on an already opened wound.

“Even if I were to present a crafted work to you as a gift, I’m sure it wouldn’t compare to the quality of your house’s craftsman.”

“So you’re saying you would give me a gift?” Her voice, overflowing with joy, was like a killing blow that echoed in my ears.

So that’s how it is. Somewhere inside, the calmer part of me understood. I had accepted the prince’s gift, thinking it special, but it hadn’t meant anything to him. Suddenly the rare tome in my arms lost its luster and became meaningless. I felt like I might crumple to my knees. I let out a small, shaky breath, waved off the flustered maid, and slipped into the room.

Prince Christopher jumped to his feet, unable to keep his composure. “Eli...?!”

Inwardly, I felt confused that he would call me by that nickname now, a nickname used only by my family and those closest to me, but more importantly, I had to pay my respects as a lady and apologize for my unauthorized intrusion.

“No, that’s fine,” he said, “but...weren’t you supposed to be visiting your aunt today?”

I felt my gaze suddenly grow cold, which was something unusual for me. His words seemed to be a direct confession that he’d aimed for a time when I wouldn’t be in the palace so he could gallivant with another woman. Or at least that was the ill-natured interpretation that flashed through my mind.

At the same time, I could feel the muscles in my face, which normally never moved, slip smoothly into a smile. “There are no words to properly convey my gratitude at your concern over my aunt’s illness, Your Highness. In truth, I had a small affair to attend to here today, but I apologize for interrupting what appears to be a delightful discussion.”

“Uh, and what affair is that?” He was being unusually timid.

The room was full of its usual occupants: Glen, who for some reason had a hand pressed over his face, and Alexei, who had a hand to his forehead as if he were battling a migraine. Lady Irene, the only woman in the room, looked shocked, but the moment she recognized me, she had that same look of terror she’d worn before.

My eyes didn’t hover on any of those three. There was only one person I focused my gaze on, and that was Prince Christopher. I mimicked him, grinning wide as he always did, giving the biggest smile I could muster. “About this book that you gifted to me the other day...I’ll be returning it to you.”

“Huh...” The prince froze solid, looking unusually comical.

I watched him as I declared, “I don’t need it anymore.” After one last glance, I left the book on the table, bowed, and saw myself out. No one called out to stop me.

I was pretty spaced out after arriving back home. My father and brother visited when they returned, but my mood remained dour and I refused dinner, holing up in my room. I, the Bibliophile Princess, didn’t feel like reading any books.

Enough, it’s about time you admit it, I thought, sighing to myself as I sat alone in my darkened room. Why was it such a surprise, such a shock for me to see Prince Christopher reveal his true self in front of another woman? Why was I in such despair—to the point of tears, to the point of falling to my knees—at realizing that his present hadn’t been anything special? Why was it that my chest felt so tight, so unbelievably painful? Why was it that with each breath, my heart seemed to ache?

“...That must be it.”

It was because I loved Prince Christopher.

I had no idea when these feelings had started. But it was in the way the sun shone off his golden hair, the way his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day, the way his voice sounded so dignified as he dispensed orders, the way he held himself so proudly as royalty. And how, sometimes, there was an iciness about him when he demonstrated his strict decisiveness. My chest panged with the memories.

For the first time I understood what a foolish person I’d been. I put on a clever farce, feigned indifference in the face of a possible annulment, but in truth, I wasn’t even aware of my own feelings. I was just a big-headed Bibliophile Princess. No matter how many books I read or how much I studied the knowledge of our predecessors, none of it had proved useful in this situation. I’d realized my feelings too late. My own heart didn’t even work the way I wanted.

A laugh slipped out of me, mocking my own misery.

I had no idea what to do from now on. My books offered me no answers. The only thing I did understand was that the person the prince would now invite on sunny days to read to him beneath the shade of the trees, and on rainy days to enjoy tea time alone with, wouldn’t be me.

I watched vacantly as the night wore on, unable to summon the will to do anything.

Act 2: One-Woman Show

Two days flew by since I saw the prince with Lady Irene. I sat at breakfast, a single letter in hand, and informed my father and brother of my plans for the day.

“From Prince Theodore?”

I nodded in response to my brother’s question. “I still have a dictionary I took from the archives, so I’ll go return it today.”

Just four days prior, I went to the archives to borrow said dictionary, unable to finish my book without it. I’d returned the book but accidentally took the dictionary home with me.

I wracked my brain trying to think if there were any other tomes I’d yet to return. There was also the room they’d provided for me when I was welcomed into the palace. It would be agonizing work, but I should pack my things there quickly.

While my brother was lost in thought, my father called over to me. “Oh, Eli. There’s something I’d like your input on.”

“Yes?”

My father, a man in his mid-forties with white strands peppered amongst his light brown hair, was an easygoing, carefree type of person. It was rare for him to seek my counsel for anything. Formerly he worked under Prince Theodore as an archive official (though it was really a job in name only), but since I became Prince Christopher’s betrothed, the post no longer suited our elevated status, and Father was selected to work as a cabinet minister in the Ministry of Finance. My brother’s situation was similar, his days kept busy as the prime minister’s aide. Once again I felt guilty for the responsibilities I’d forced upon my family.

“We received a letter from your grandfather not long ago, if you’ll remember. You haven’t been back in so long. What do you say? Fred and I will take a holiday, and the three of us can go back together.”

“Father,” my older brother Alfred cut in, his tone strict and reprimanding.

I tilted my head and considered the suggestion. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. My grandfather had given up his title to my father and secluded himself in our territory. And true enough, we’d received a letter from him urging my return around my eighteenth birthday.

Since the annulment of my engagement with His Highness was just a matter of time, it would be uncomfortable for me to stay here in the capital. Besides, I’d feel better if I didn’t have to see his new bride-to-be in person. Some might accuse me of just running away, but these bottled-up feelings needed somewhere to go.

“But can you both really take a holiday?” I interjected as the two engaged in some kind of verbal dispute.

There wasn’t a single instance since I’d been welcomed into the palace where the three of us had been able to return home together. When I’d peeked in at their work desks before, they’d both been covered in an artistically arranged mountain range of paperwork. One that threatened to collapse at any moment. It wasn’t hard to imagine that their current workload far surpassed what it had been when they worked in the archives. They had my respect for doing jobs completely unrelated to their previous field without gripe or complaint.

Father replied nonchalantly, “Don’t worry! In fact, I’ve already applied. Holidays are important. The number of hours a person has (to read books) is limited.”

Hm, something about that was suspicious, as if there was an underlying motive hidden in his words. The way he was beaming made his thoughts transparent; he was imagining himself surrounded by his beloved books, merrily passing his time.

Alfred sighed, exasperated.

~.~.~.~

I accompanied my father and brother to the palace, where I was left agape at the rows of pillars that made up the government offices. Normally I came here at the blessing of His Highness, using a passage that was exclusive to royalty, so I only met a limited number of people. Naturally, not many here knew who I was.

Our coach pulled up where a crowd of people were waiting, and as soon as it came to a stop, they immediately began talking to my father and brother, whisking the two off to their respective offices. By the looks of it, they were quite busy. If that was anything to go by, I wondered if they really could get permission for a holiday or not.

“...Prince Christopher did?”

My heart jumped out of my chest, unprepared for the name that came flying out from a nearby conversation. A door was left ajar, and amidst the hubbub of shuffling papers and bustling bodies filtered out the sound of a conversation.

“Nah, there’s no way, not possible.”

“No, I’m telling you! One of His Highness’s messengers was at Earl Casull’s house, they say. And you know Lady Irene’s family is a branch family to the Casull’s.”

“Seriously? So the prince is really serious about breaking off his engagement to the Bernstein’s Fairy Princess and switching over to Lady Irene instead?”

“Huh? Sir, that sounds like a load of crock. I heard those are just rumors Viscount Palcas’s people have been spreading.”

“Nah, I’ve seen it myself. It looked like the prince and Lady Irene were having a tryst.”

“Wait, the maids were talking about it too. Saying stuff like, ‘So the prince is just like every other man.’”

“There’s also been some strange rumors going around amongst the maids too. They were saying that the Fairy Princess is jealous of Lady Irene and has been doing horrible things to her and stuff.”

“Codswallop. I don’t buy that at all.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

The conversation trickled on, but I pressed past and left it behind me. Some of the words didn’t make much sense to me, but the conversation did reflect that those working in the palace were really invested in the prince’s relationship with Lady Irene, as well as myself.

I only associated with an extremely limited number of people within the palace and was unfamiliar with the gossip. Perhaps there were other people or places that knew about the prince and his relationship far before I’d ever heard about Lady Irene. It seemed I, completely lost in my books, was the only one that didn’t know. I brooded over the thought.

All I could think about was running from the problem, but at this rate even Prince Christopher’s reputation, which he’d gone to painstaking lengths to build, would be tainted. For the sake of Sauslind Kingdom’s future, this wasn’t a desirable state to be in. We would need to announce the annulment of our engagement soon if we were to break out of this current deadlock, but that wasn’t something a marquess family could request. Not unless the circumstances were extreme enough to warrant it.

As I anguished over who I might approach to consult about the issue, the door in front of me burst open.

“...Have we obtained the evidence?”

“The third patrol unit has the warehouse surrounded, but we have a report that a number of riverboats left in the early morning heading for Ulthar.”

The man’s cunning eyes turned chilly. He had an imposing air about him but maintained a polite facade. “Tell me, are the capital’s patrol units full of imbeciles? They kept watch over the warehouse on the Neville River, but didn’t keep a lookout for boats?”

“N-No! They’ve already deployed troops to the mouth of the river. Commander Glen said we’d round them all up in one go!”

“So it seems three days of no sleep or rest is enough to make even a stupid man come up with something intelligent.” The Ice Scion’s smooth features contorted in a grin so malicious he could be the devil’s henchman. Then his gaze wandered to the sacrificial lamb who’d missed her (my) opportunity to run.

“If it isn’t Lady Elianna. I’m glad to see you have so much free time. It’s thanks to you that the entire palace is drowning in work. While you’re headed to the archives, I’d like you to take this as well. On the way, deliver this letter to the Royal Household Department and tell them to resubmit their reorganization proposal and personnel catalog for the past five years by this afternoon. And also be sure to tell them, ‘Absurd ideas won’t get you anywhere.’ Can you do that?” Lord Alexei was looking even more ghoulish than usual. A closer examination of his pale blue eyes revealed they were bloodshot, and even his pale skin looked a shade of exhausted I hadn’t seen before. Had something serious happened?

While I stood there blinking, Lord Alexei forced a number of miscellaneous chores on me. His subordinate looked at me pityingly, but apparently he wasn’t chivalrous enough to offer himself up in my stead. The only reason I’d come was to return this book and clear out my private quarters, but now things had taken a strange turn. No, perhaps it was more apt to say this was things operating as usual?

At last I reached a place I recognized (in the form of the grand staircase at the heart of the palace) and laboriously began my ascent. Then suddenly—

“Eeeeek!”

I heard a cry from behind me and the sound of something tumbling. Shocked, I looked back to see a girl, who’d apparently fallen, at the base of the steps. Her soft chestnut-colored hair was splayed out over her body. What really drew my concern was how pitifully her arms and legs were spread out around her as she lay there face down.

Before I could rush down the stairs to inspect her, another cry echoed.

“Irene!” This time it was a man, one who raced to the fallen girl. “Irene! Irene, stay with me...!” The man, who so woefully screamed her name, had honey gold hair, feminine features, and a petite form that might cause some to mistake him for a boy. “Irene! Why did this have to happen to you...!”

Instead of mourning, I think you should call a doctor.

I moved my gaze, thinking to call for help, but the unusually loud voices had already drawn people to the scene. Some rushed forward to check the girl’s condition, voices calling for a doctor mixing in with the clamor. As this happened, Lady Irene slowly regained consciousness. The man with honey gold hair helped lift her up, and she clung to his arm, body trembling.

“Lady Elianna...Lady Elianna did this!” she said.

...Pardon?

Everyone at the bottom of the stairs (save for Lady Irene) turned their accusing gazes up at me.

I just stood there frozen, wide-eyed. Was this how a criminal felt when they got caught in the act? I was the heinous lady villain who’d callously thrust a frail maiden down a flight of stairs. Should I also hold a folding fan in one hand and cackle? Or was it more appropriate for me to curse at her and say, “Know your place!”?

Oh dear, this wasn’t the time to entertain such thoughts. Things had just taken such a dramatic, theatrical turn that my mind started to wander. I found myself comparing this scene to one from a romance novel I’d read at length for my aunt just days ago. Maybe the story had been a bad influence on me.

“Irene...you can’t really mean to say that Lady Elianna did this to you?”

“I...I...” As Lady Irene trembled pitifully, flapping her mouth, a new lead character took to the stage. (Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to call him the hero?)

“What is all of this uproar?” Enter Prince Christopher, who still retained his splendor even as he looked unusually irritable.

It was the heroine (or so everyone regarded her as such) who then called his name. “Prince Chris...!” While Lady Irene beamed with joy as tears beaded in her eyes, my heart froze over.

Was I expected to stick to the script (for this seemingly pre-prepared comedy skit) and fulfill my role? Did this fall within the contractual obligations of my agreement with His Highness?

The prince coolly surveyed the scene before kneeling down at Lady Irene’s side. As he looked her over to ensure she wasn’t injured, Lady Irene played up her role as the heroine of a tragedy, clinging to him as she cried. Then, in response to the dignified way he’d posed the question, she timidly plucked up her courage and said, “I-I tried to...I tried to tell Lady Elianna that it was just a misunderstanding about Your Highness and me. B-But she...she said it was all my fault. Then she suddenly shoved me down the stairs...!”

The scene must have been heartrending to those watching, what with the way Lady Irene clapped her hands over her face woefully.

The prince was sympathetic, kindly consoling her. “What do you mean by ‘misunderstanding’? Did Elianna do something else to you besides this?”

“Y-Yes, she did. I just haven’t been able to say anything this whole time.”

“You don’t have anything to fear anymore,” he assured. “Will you give us your testimony so we can get all these crimes out in the open?”

Their gazes met, tears still falling from Lady Irene’s eyes. Even the wet streak left behind on her cheek looked like something out of a painting.

Something was off, but what was it exactly?

I felt a chill go down my spine. I’d seen the prince like this once before. Hidden perfectly behind that devil’s gleaming smile was a carnivore creeping up to slaughter its prey.

Lady Irene passionately pleaded her case. According to her, she’d spent her days in misery ever since she’d arrived at the palace for etiquette lessons. She was ridiculed for being a minor noble, treated like a maid servant, denied her meals, and at the worst of it, she’d been chased off to sleep in the stables where she’d nearly escaped a low-ranking soldier’s violent assault. All of this was at the behest of Elianna, the daughter of a marquess and future ruler of the inner palace.

“A-And then...” She went on to explain how it grew worse after she became acquainted with Lord Glen, Lord Alexei and Prince Christopher. “Just the other day when I went to retrieve a rose from the garden for her, I got soaked because they were watering that day, and she laughed at me. Then when I went to return one of the books as she’d requested, the ladder I tried to use in the archives had been damaged, and Prince Theodore saved me from a dangerous fall. After that, I received a box of sweets from Lady Elianna, and it was filled with...with bugs...!”

Oh my. I’d been quite the little busy bee lately it seemed. Leaving the first half of those accusations aside, the latter did sound vaguely familiar. While I pondered the matter to myself, the prince responded sympathetically to Lady Irene’s laundry list of my (alleged) crimes.

“That must have been so difficult for you, Irene.” He gave a soft nod as he comforted her. “So you were at such a loss that you confronted Elianna directly?”

“Y-Yes. But I never dreamed she would push me down the stairs...!”

“Oh yes, you claim Eli pushed you, correct?”

“Yes! I’m absolutely sure she—” At last she turned from the prince, aiming her accusatory gaze up at me, only for her eyes to go wide and her voice to trail off.

...Terribly sorry, it seems I’ve ruined this grand, once-in-a-lifetime play of yours. I suppose I should also apologize for looking completely unladylike as well. For those of you in the audience, please do understand not all noblewomen have the kind of arm strength that I do.

Miraculously balanced in both arms were five thick tomes, each the width of an adult’s thumb finger; two long, rolled maps in either hand; and a stack of documents and written correspondence heaped on top. For someone of my small stature, it was a virtual tower, high enough to cover the lower half of my face. Library organization had left my arms toned enough that they didn’t tremble under such weight, but it would take a feat of God to be able to push someone down a flight of stairs without disrupting my own balance. And sadly, I was no acrobat’s apprentice (at least as far as I knew).

Prince Christopher gave a small, familiar sigh.

I flinched a bit when I heard it. It was the same woeful sigh my aunt and other family members gave me when they said, “Please don’t show off that arm strength of yours, it’s unbecoming for a lady of such a delicate appearance.” Still, books required proper muscle. At times you needed enough to be able to carry multiple volumes while mounting a ladder.

The prince stood and strode forward, not even looking back as Lady Irene called out entreatingly, “U-Um, Prince Chris...” His footsteps as he started up the stairs were imposing enough to keep the room silent. When he arrived where I stood, he took the maps and half of the books I was holding. I didn’t even have the chance to refuse him.

Being a man, his build was such that he could easily tuck the load under one arm, and yet for some reason he sullenly grumbled under his breath. “Alex...that dolt. After I told him numerous times to have some moderation.”

“Prince Chris...! Please believe me. It really was Lady Elianna who pushed me. And all the other incidents of harassment up until now as well...! I beg of you, make a fair and just decision on this, Your Highness!” Lady Irene now appealed to the prince with tears in her eyes. While she was still drunk off her role as the heroine, she at least had the decency to realize how shameful the situation had become for her.

The prince quietly turned his attention to her pleas. “Indeed. Then first, is there anyone who actually witnessed what took place?”

“Alan did!” Lady Irene whipped around to look at the man, as if he were her last lifeline.

The young man with honey-colored hair smiled innocently back. “Yes, I witnessed Lady Irene Palcas falling from the steps.”

“And what of the claim that Elianna pushed her?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I think it’s pretty clear to everyone that it would’ve been impossible for her to push Lady Irene. Not with how many books she had in her hands. Even I don’t have the level of acrobatics required to play an instrument and push someone at the same time.”

Lady Irene’s face burned bright red as she scowled at him. “Alan, you...!”

He returned the hostility with a soft smile. “Even if I testified on your behalf, the truth would be obvious. Also, if you’ll allow me to add my input as the court’s master musician, I heard Irene cry before I heard her fall. It would be one thing if she cried after the fact, but it was almost as if she knew the attack was coming.”

Blood instantly drained from her face.

Lord Alan viewed her countenance with a look of dissatisfaction, as if to say, “Over already?” He shrugged slightly and commanded the attention of the onlookers behind him as he went on, “You were pretty ill-prepared there at the end, Irene. Perhaps you intended your maneuvering to be clever, but you were dancing on the palm of His Highness’s hand. Especially today. You and your father were aiming for a checkmate, but instead you were swaying to a symphony of self-destruction.”

The onlookers parted, giving way to a short, plump, middle-aged man. Despite his nobleman’s attire, he had a pale complexion and a look of devastation on his face (which I suspected had something to do with the soldiers restraining him).

Lady Irene shrieked in surprise, “Father?!”

Beside me, the prince’s voice—at once light-hearted and yet also penetratingly cold—boomed. “Now then, shall we proceed to the main event?”

It was my first time seeing such a sharp gaze from him, directed at the people down below.

Act 3: The Unrivaled Prince

“Irene Palcas and Viscount Palcas, I hereby authorize your arrest for intent to cause bodily harm and for attempted assassination on Lady Elianna Bernstein. Guards!”

Lady Irene shrieked. The viscount was already cuffed, but now Irene had her hands bound as well. “No, Your Highness! This must be a mistake. I am the victim here, I’m the one who was harassed by Lady Elianna. Please open your eyes. I beg of you...! I spent time with you—the real you. Please return to your senses and be the wise man I know you to be!”

My heart ached hearing that, but the prince watched calmly and dutifully as she made her convincing appeal.

“Ordinarily such allegations would be considered a crime of damaging the integrity of the crown, but it is my duty to correct any misconceptions you might have. So, Lady Irene, in the interest of fairness, let us hear your claims.” He spoke in a clear voice, as if speaking indirectly to those gathered.

“First, the matter of the inner palace. Currently, Elianna has no official jurisdiction over the inner palace. The one managing it would be the current queen, my mother, who is responsible for and manages the ladies who come here for etiquette lessons. If you really did experience the harassment that you claim, then it falls on her shoulders as the person in charge. And as the crown prince, I will ensure that responsibility isn’t shirked.

“However,” he said, “keep in mind that if your allegations are found to be false, they will be taken as a crime—as treason—for harming the authority of the royal family. Now then, Lady Irene, is it true that you were harassed in the inner palace?”

“Uh! W-Well...” She was flustered; her gaze swam back and forth, all of the vim and vigor from moments ago now lost. Lady Irene must never have imagined that the crime she was trying to pin on me might instead end up as an accusation against the queen. One that could amount to treason.

“I-I have a witness...” Her eyes turned entreatingly to Lord Alan, whom she must have known was a dim hope at this point.

He offered her a sweet smile, one that seemed completely out of place here. “Hm, yes, I am sorry, but...all I can do is give testimony that you’re a victim who staged everything yourself. Oh, I should also add, we already know all the maids and soldiers you bought off, so you won’t be able to rely on them either.”

“So you’ve betrayed me...!”

“Mmm, just to make sure there are no misunderstandings here, allow me to explain. I’m the prince’s hidden trump card, one used for situations like this. I watch out at tea parties and evening parties to make sure there’s no one there looking to harm Lady Elianna. My current task was to keep my eyes on you since your movements were a bit suspicious.”

“No...” she gasped, her voice filled with despair.

I furrowed my brow a bit as well. My dismay was in part because I sympathized with her and felt they should’ve chosen a more appropriate place to carry out a hearing, but also because I found it questionable for a “hidden trump card” to out themselves so publicly. Wouldn’t this affect his ability to operate in the future?

The prince must have thought the same thing because he sighed exasperatedly. “Next, I’d like to address what you said a moment ago.”

Lady Irene suddenly snapped to attention, the strength returning to her eyes as she gazed up at the two of us. “Your Highness! My claims against Lady Elianna seem to have been a misunderstanding. But please believe me! I never planned anything like an assassination against her!”

The way she forsook an apology in favor of proclaiming her own innocence was an incredible display of both defiance and composure. No longer did she look the part of the delicate noble lady. This was her true nature. I had no doubt she’d laugh off my sympathy as being beneath her.

The prince replied coolly, “I already have evidence secured, but I can’t overlook what you said a moment ago. You mentioned it yourself. The watering incident in the rose garden. The damaged ladder in the archives. The poisoned gift.”

Both Lady Irene and the viscount standing beside her flinched. But it was the viscount in particular who seemed restless, his gaze wandering.

His Highness continued. “The other day there was a fuss over some pipe failure in the rose garden and the resulting drainage. At the same time, something disastrous happened—an unidentified intruder broke into the palace. Would you happen to know anything about this incident, Viscount Palcas?”

“I-I know nothing! Nothing!”

“No? Well, fortunately this intruder was apprehended by Glen and the rest of the imperial guard, and we were able to ascertain that he was after Elianna’s life.”

The voices of those gathered erupted in surprise. Even I was left blinking in shock. It made sense now why Glen had appeared so shaken back then.

“In addition, we discovered damage to the ladders in the archives and a poisonous substance smeared across the books. And a foreign substance mixed in with tea leaves. All of these incidents targeting Elianna occurred immediately after Lady Irene was in the area, according to the report from Prince Theodore, my uncle.”

Now I understood why I had been barred from entering the archives. The reason why Prince Theodore was always so busy must have had something to do with this as well. Apparently the recent damage to the ladders I’d noticed hadn’t been natural deterioration either.

“Those are false accusations! All of that is circumstantial evidence. Someone else must have...someone suspicious—like a witch—must have done those things. I haven’t done anything of the like!” Lady Irene glowered daggers at me, revealing her hate and contempt for the first time.

“Besides, don’t you find it strange that someone as unworthy as the Bibliophile Princess has been occupying such an important position?! I’ve heard about her administering suspicious drugs to His Highness and the royal family. Do you really think someone like that deserves to be the queen of this country?! You’re just being deceived by her!” she appealed convincingly to the audience.

An air of confusion settled over the murmuring crowd. But even I could understand it wasn’t the reaction Lady Irene had hoped to provoke.

“...I see now,” said the prince.

A shiver ran down my spine. Immediately I felt the urge to run from His Highness, but knowing it would be disrespectful, I managed to resist the temptation.

Although Prince Christopher wore a smile on his face, it emanated a cold, chilling anger. “Now I understand what the difference is between your motivations and your father’s.”

“What...?”

His Highness ignored her confusion and turned to the crowd with his sunny blue eyes, as if turning the spotlight toward them. “I am not so conceited that I would personally boast about my betrothed’s accomplishments and worth. I’ll allow the rest of you to speak. Someone who knows what Eli has done, answer Lady Irene.”

Those gathered exchanged bewildered looks. I was just as confused as Lady Irene. This could cast a poor light on His Highness, given his position. There was some truth to what Lady Irene had said after all; I was the Bibliophile Princess.

“Um...” A man who looked like a civil official timidly spoke up, seeking permission to continue. Emboldened after the prince glanced at him approvingly, he turned toward Lady Irene. “My lady, you may not be aware of this, but it was Lady Elianna who uncovered those crimes in the Weimar Region—crimes including embezzlement, corruption, and collusion between the consul and the lord of the region. Since then, the fish carried in from Weimar Harbor have livened up the marketplace.”

“The Weimar Region? That’s where...” Another man, who appeared to be a servant from the kitchens, suddenly mumbled. He flinched as he realized what he was saying but continued the story once His Highness gave a prompting look. “The seafood cookbook that came from that region was utterly groundbreaking and...well, um, has been a great resource for us cooks.”

Another court lady agreed with him. “There was another book published at that same time, one depicting the daily life of a housewife in the Weimar Region, which became hugely popular. The queen even enjoyed reading it. She commented about how similar the struggles and anxieties of common housewives were to her own as queen. I heard it was all thanks to Lady Elianna acting as an intermediary with a relative’s publishing company.”

“Oh, speaking of books,” began one of the royal court doctors that was first summoned to the scene, pleasantly stroking his beard as he spoke. “From the book Lady Elianna requested, titled The Travels of Parco Molo, we discovered a new medicinal herb and its benefits. It’s effective in treating internal imbalances in women. It should have no effect on men, but... Hm. Word of it must’ve gotten distorted somewhere down the line.”

“Please allow me to speak,” a man requested politely. He was middle-aged and looked to be a divisional officer of the imperial guard. “I’ve heard it was also Lady Elianna who was the first to predict the widespread damage that would result from an enormous cold wave in the country of Maldura last year, and she was also the one who proposed we buy double the supplies in anticipation of it. Thanks to her, the warmongering Maldurans are in our debt after we provided them provisions and aid. Now if they try to start a war with us, their own people will be against them.”

“Oh my,” came the voices of several noble women. They must’ve accompanied their husbands here.

One elaborated, “The same goes for the Suiran weave, a type of weaving from the marquess’s territory that borders Maldura. That specific technique for weaving fabric was falling out of use, but Lady Elianna brought it back, and it’s now in fashion with the nobles.”

“Yes,” continued another. “So popular, in fact, that I’ve been having a rough time getting my hands on it. There’s a six month waiting list!”

“There weren’t really any specialties of note from the marquess’s territory before, but thanks to that, they’re now booming with weavers.”

“Dear me, now that I think about it, there’s a pen that’s been a popular gift for noblemen for the past four years, imported from the east. Lady Elianna was the one who called attention to it.”

“It’s famous among women as well, since it doesn’t require as much force to use as a quill pen,” another added, the ladies laughing amongst themselves.

Talk spread like wildfire. Things such as, “People have had their attention on meteorologists ever since,” and, “Lady Elianna put in a recommendation for a new, improved loom,” and, “Both the researchers deciphering ancient history and the chief herbalist are doggedly chasing Lady Elianna around for her input,” and, “Now other regional lords whose domains lack stand-out specialties are looking to Lady Elianna for advice.”

The more I listened, the more dread consumed me. It was less because of the familiar stories they told and more so that the woman of whom they spoke was not Elianna the Bibliophile Princess but someone else altogether. This had to be some kind of mistake, I was sure.

Almost as soon as I got the urge to flee, I felt a sudden arm wrap tight around my waist, pulling me close. I looked up to find Prince Christopher’s eyes, blue as a vast ocean, threatening to swallow me up.

Why was it, I wondered. He was smiling at me, yet his face seemed to say, “I won’t let you get away.”

“It appears you are all well aware of my betrothed’s accomplishments and influence.” His gaze was brilliant, his voice commanding and kingly as it boomed through the hall. The admiring eyes of the audience down below immediately gathered on him (and by extension, me). Lady Irene was the only one at the base of the steps who was in a daze, and it was to her that His Highness turned his attention. “But it appears there is one amongst you who didn’t even try to understand. Ordinarily I would tell you to learn your place, but it’s thanks to that faux pas you just narrowly reduced one of the charges levied against you, Lady Irene.”

“What in the world are you talking about...?” she muttered, her malice completely deflated by this point.

The prince’s eyes were sharp as they turned to the man behind her. An audible gulp could be heard. “One month ago, Earl Casull came to the royal family saying he had discovered Zelger, a piece of porcelain from the Age of the Hero King, recognized as the royal family’s hidden treasure. The inspector appraised it as authentic, but Elianna recognized it as a fake. So, does that mean that Earl Casull and the inspector were trying to deceive the royal family? The inspector is one thing, but the Casull family is renowned for generations of loyal nobles. Could the earl of that kind of family really do such a thing?”

His tone made it clear that the question—one directed at those present—was rhetorical. He kept his gaze locked on Viscount Palcas. “Once I started looking into it closer, I found a trend had begun lately among nobles and merchants of gathering artworks and exhibiting them. But there was also frequent fuss about counterfeits. There seemed to be only one person pulling the strings on that operation, but they were being too discreet for us to catch. The inspector, who we’d allowed to remain loose, suddenly died under suspicious circumstances, and an ominous shadow began to loom around Elianna.

“Did they hold a grudge against her for unveiling the counterfeit, one that would have caused the downfall of Earl Casull had it not been detected so early? Or did they want to get rid of her so their own daughter could take her place? Well, which was it, Viscount Palcas?”

The man, still bound by the soldiers, elegantly leapt to his feet once called. “I-I don’t know anything! Just what proof do you have of any of this?!”

“Indeed,” the prince replied thoughtfully. “You gave me the run around in that regard. When your daughter approached me, I figured it was under your suggestion, but it seems she wasn’t privy to all of your evil deeds. Well...I do still consider her an accomplice in the rose garden incident with the intruder as well as the poison attempt.

“Lady Irene told me much. She appealed for my compassion, citing the discord between the main Casull family and yours, telling me how your family was once long ago from a western archipelago prior to being incorporated as a branch family. And how even now you employ a craftsman skilled at wood carving using techniques passed down from your ancient homeland.”

The viscount trembled, his face as white as paper.

His Highness smiled maliciously as he recalled the past. “When I heard, I almost forgot myself and nearly laughed. No wonder I couldn’t find anything even after searching your territory and related merchant families. I never dreamed you’d hide the counterfeits with the forestry goods—right there with the lumber on the edge of the Neville River.”

The prince lifted his gaze at the perfect moment, right as Lord Glen and a respectably dressed gentleman appeared. A wealthy air seemed to permeate around the upright-looking older man, who took a knee below us. Meanwhile, Lord Glen dashed up the steps and relieved the prince of his burden, trading the books for a stack of documents.

His Highness took a cursory glance through them, then turned his vibrant blue eyes sharply to the base of the stairs. “Evidence has been secured. Among wood materials in Viscount Palcas’s possession, we’ve seized a number of counterfeit artworks as well as what appears to be Zelger replicas. As a noble of this kingdom, you should be well aware that replicating Zelger is a crime akin to treason against the royal family. We have seized poison from a merchant family with intimate ties to the viscount, one of the same variety used to try to harm Marquess Bernstein’s daughter. We also have proof the viscount is connected with the intruder who broke into the palace. Have you any defense for yourself, Viscount Palcas?”

Crestfallen, the viscount crumpled to his knees. The prince had been hounding him for answers before, but apparently he was only waiting for the actual proof to be delivered. Now the viscount looked like an empty husk with no willpower to spout any more excuses.

His Highness next turned his attention to the older gentleman still kneeling. “Earl Casull, while you are one of the victims in this counterfeit scandal, I must also tell you that as the main family, you’re deeply responsible for not preventing the secret maneuvering of your branch family.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” came the rumbling, earnest voice of the kneeling earl, head lowered. “We of the Casull family are painfully aware of the weight of our responsibility in this affair. We ask that you deal with us however you deem fit.” His voice swelled with emotion. “It brings shame on our family that we could not see the counterfeit of the royal family’s hidden treasure, Zelger, for what it was. I would like to thank the young lady of the Bernstein house for preventing any dishonor from befalling the royal family. Presumptuous though it may be, we of the Casull family would like to extend our support for Lady Elianna Bernstein to be crowned Her Royal Highness.”

...Pardon?

I almost lost my footing. I was under the impression that there’d been no official talks of our marriage.

Earl Casull’s words lit a fuse with those at the base of the stairs; they erupted into murmurs, excitement spreading.

Prince Christopher returned the stack of papers back to Lord Glen and relieved me of the last few books still held in my arms. Then once again he wrapped his arm firmly around my waist, pulling me close. It was a complete change from the arbitrator of justice that he’d been moments ago. His smile, now dazzling and bright, turned to shine down on those below before I even had the opportunity to say anything.

“I appreciate that, Earl Casull. We will happily accept your blessing.”

No, Your Highness, I’m quite certain I’m the one who should be responding here.

“While I realize it’s indiscreet to do this here publicly, thanks to this incident, I have had the opportunity to hear your unreserved opinions about Elianna. Thus, I shall now ask. If there are any amongst you that would disapprove of me taking Lady Elianna Bernstein as my princess, I bid you step forward.”

There was no way anyone would oppose. Even Lady Irene was in a daze and unable to speak. Her biased claims had all been debunked by the people of various noble standings that had vouched for me. On top of all that, her father’s wrongdoings had been revealed as well.

I could sympathize; my head was also in an unmeasured state of disarray. After four entire years, I’d only just realized there was something else looming beneath the prince’s dazzling smile.

One or two people began to clap, and soon the entire room joined in with boisterous cheers. It was almost as if we really were on stage, at the end of the grand finale. The prince took it in with a wide grin, promising an official announcement before the curtain (metaphorically) fell and the crowd dispersed.

As for me, not only had I suddenly had a script thrust upon me, I’d somehow been given a star role. And yet it wasn’t until it was all over that I realized I’d never even said a single line the entire time.

Act 4: After the Curtain Closes

I remained in a daze even as His Highness wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me down the hallway to his office. On the way, an exhausted-looking Lord Glen shared his report on what they found by the river, and then the prince began giving him further orders. But before we could make it to our destination, we ran into Prince Theodore and Lord Alexei, who were lying in wait.

It was only then that I realized the two of them had been absent from the dramatic theater moments before. Perhaps they were concerned that their collective presence, as people intimately close with the prince, might make the whole event look staged. It was a shame; in the book my aunt had forced me to read to her, all of the pivotal characters had appeared on stage together.

But wait a moment... Just when had the curtain even raised on this play? And just what kind of script had been arranged for it? Had I not been cast as the Bibliophile Princess after all? Had I misread the script somehow at some point? My head spun in circles, soaring to the peak of confusion.

After Prince Theodore received the book from His Highness (the same one I’d intended to return to the archives), he suddenly peered at me anxiously and asked, “Eli? Are you all right?” His ultramarine eyes, a shade darker than the prince’s, watched me in earnest. “My apologies. I am sure Chris has said as much already, but you were in danger. That’s why we couldn’t allow you near the archives. It was also out of concern for your well-being that the personnel there tried to keep you from the books. They were all worried they might have hurt your feelings as a result. But please, worry no longer. You’re welcome to use the archives again, as you always have.”

This was the Prince Theodore I knew—the same one I always discussed books with. I felt my shoulders relax and breathed a sigh of relief. “...Of course.”

Prince Theodore suddenly gave a small, mischievous grin. “That said, you did better than I thought you would, Chris—manipulating the situation to push talk of your marriage forward.” He must’ve watched it all unfold.

The prince looked disgruntled, but he quickly flipped it around and flashed a vibrant smile back at his uncle. “The one who makes the first move claims victory. I even took down the last barrier I had in front of me, Earl Casull. Now the older Marquess Bernstein should have nothing to fuss over.”

I jerked my head up instinctively at the sudden mention of my grandfather’s name.

Prince Theodore had a malicious grin on his face. “I figured the finale was approaching. You’d best thank me for calling Eli here. Of course, it’d suit me just as well if things had gone sour for you instead.”

The prince suddenly bristled back. “I do believe I’ve already asked you numerous times to please cease your illicit solicitations toward my—your nephew’s—fiancée. Besides, aren’t you a little old for her?”

I was pretty sure I caught His Highness whispering at the end, “You damn pedo,” under his breath, or something equally unbefitting of his stature. Surely it was just my imagination.

“Age gaps are common among married nobles,” said Prince Theodore. “Plus, I am the most compatible with Eli. Although, a certain someone keeps glowering and has been for a long while now. And quite ferociously at that, I might add.”

“You act far too intimate with her! And while we’re on the topic, stop casually calling her by her nickname over and over again!”

...Where was the prince from a few moments ago who had so level-headedly exposed the viscount (and his daughter) for their crimes?

As I watched the exchange, blinking in surprise, a cold voice cut in, oozing with displeasure. “Please cease with the teasing. We have a mountain of work now, both in dealing with the aftermath of this case and the prince’s announcement.” Lord Glen hung his head and expelled a ragged breath, worn thin from exhaustion.

“Seriously... I mean it, enough is enough. I don’t care how pressed for time you were or how much you were being pressured, you didn’t give the rest of us any warning before dragging us into this mess. Did you mean to drive us into an early grave with all that work? Giving us only three days to pull together evidence for a case we’d been privately investigating for a month. I’ll curse you for the rest of my life if I get hit with multiple transfer requests from my squad after this.”

“Well said,” agreed Lord Alexei, not even trying to mask his irritation. “After generations of absence, we finally pulled Sauslind’s Brain back onto the political center stage, and you nearly drove them back into isolation. Four whole years you had, and what on earth were you doing that whole time, oh ‘handsome prince’?” His words dripped thick with sarcasm.

The prince had a bitter look on his face. “I didn’t choose Eli as my partner because she’s from the Bernstein family.”

“I’m aware. Please reserve your love confessions and the like for when the two of you are alone together. I can’t tolerate the stupidity of it.” Lord Alexei was indifferent as ever, flipping through a stack of papers.

A new cast member made an entrance, their voice bright and cheerful. “You sure said it. No one would ever guess the ‘handsome prince’ is, in truth, a helpless weakling. If she’d known, Lady Irene might’ve been able to take a different approach at winning him over.” It was Lord Alan, the golden-haired master court musician, with a mischievous grin on his face.

Slipping past the others, he approached and swiftly took one of my hands in his, planting a kiss on the back of it. I found myself reflected in his cunning emerald green eyes. “Allow me to reintroduce myself, Lady Elianna Bernstein. I am Alan Ferrera, and it was I who spread the nickname ‘Fairy Princess’ for you. I hope you can be as open with me as you are with Alex and the rest.”

Fairy Princess? I blinked and inwardly dismissed it. What kind of joke was that?

To be honest, back when I lived in our territory, there was one other name I was known by—the “Library Ghost.” My hair was a faded blonde with tight curls, something I’d inherited from my late mother, and it hung loose and unrestrained down my back. Apparently that made it stand out in poorly-lit areas. On top of that, since I spent all my time inside reading, my skin was a pale snow white, and since books were my only companions, my face lacked much expression. Those qualities just further contributed to my image as a “ghost.”

One time the children of the region challenged each other to a test of courage to see who was brave enough to approach the library’s ghost. Another time when the weather was poor and the sun was setting, one of the new handmaids discovered me among the dark stacks and fled screaming, “Th-The ghost appeared!”

...Did I truly resemble a spirit that much? If my options were such that I could choose between being compared to something inhuman and being called Bibliophile Princess, the latter was clearly the better choice. In fact, such a nickname would be a badge of honor among the Bernsteins. After all, “biblio-” meant book and “-phile” meant lover, so a lover of books.

As I inwardly rejected the unbefitting nickname of “Fairy Princess,” Prince Christopher promptly slapped Lord Alan’s hand away with an audible clap. “Why didn’t you stop things before they got that far?” His Highness demanded. “Everything turned out reasonably well, but now that you have outed yourself publicly, it will make your role difficult in the future.”

Lord Alan scoffed and launched into a rebuttal, not looking the least bit guilty for what he’d done. “You’re the one who called the viscount there to finish him off, no? I didn’t think we would be able to relieve Lady Elianna of her misunderstandings about the situation without doing the same to her as well. Plus, it annoyed me that we couldn’t land a decisive blow against her because you drove Lady Elianna from the palace. Thus, things ended the way they did.”

The way he spoke was light-hearted and forthcoming, but there was a twinge of mocking there on his lips. “Plus, it’s high time you revealed the truth about me anyways. It’s already common knowledge among clever noblewomen, as well as the queen and her entourage. In fact, every time I’m with Lady Elianna it just reinforces how overprotective and head-over-heels you—”

The prince slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the words. My eyes had been on him even before that, blinking in confusion.

“Um...” I began. Though his sentence hung incomplete, part of what he said captured my attention, and I first apologized to Lord Alan. As the prince’s confidant and someone who had kept an eye out for me, albeit from the shadows, he surely deserved gratitude. “Please accept my apology for not noticing you until now. I appreciate you looking out for me all this time, Maestro.”

“...It’s Alan.” His eyes turned vacant as if he’d lost all confidence as he mumbled, “So you really never did notice me... Not even once these past four years. And here I’m supposed to be just as popular among women as His Highness and yet... Hahaha...”

I felt most apologetic about that. This was one of the reasons high society and I didn’t see eye to eye; I had difficulty remembering people’s faces. Yet when it came to books, I could memorize a vast array of different topics.

Lord Alan’s expression soured when the prince snorted in laughter. His half-lidded eyes glowered unreservedly back. “Well, at least I’m not like the helpless, weakling prince. I didn’t ask for her aunt’s help to drive her from the palace, only to cause a misunderstanding and provoke Lady Elianna’s disgust. Don’t you remember? When she shoved that book at you, you looked as white as a blank sheet of paper—no, more appropriately, ash from a cold fireplace.”

The prince froze instantly, and Lord Theodore amusedly interjected, “You had a Bernstein shove a book back at you? That’s almost as unheard of as...as the sun rising from the west.”

Lord Glen spoke up in a thin, weak voice. “Guys...cut it out, please. That was what started this whole nightmare, what brought it out.” He mumbled, “The prince’s real form...” Now it was his turn to look vacant, tears beading in his eyes. He must’ve really been run ragged from this incident.

I inwardly reflected on my actions, feeling both sympathy and compassion for him. Now I understood that what I’d done back then had been very immature. Ultimately it had been false assumptions and misunderstandings on my part. I surely couldn’t blame Lady Irene either.

Just then, a voice called to me from behind and I looked back. “Eli!” My brother, Alfred, came dashing toward me, prompting me to hurry to meet him. Seeing the face of a family member seemed to release all the pent-up tension in my body I didn’t even realize was there.

“Dear Alfred!”

He studied my face once I was close, eyes—the same ashen gray as my father’s—flickering with emotion. “I heard about the commotion... Are you all right?” Alfred worriedly swept my bangs back. It was the same habit he’d had since we were kids; his way of checking my complexion.

It made me smile. “Yes, I am.”

I had complex feelings about Lady Irene already, but if things had gone her way, I would’ve caused enormous trouble for my brother and father. The warmth of his hand was a sharp reminder that this was not a stage. This was reality.

“Well, with Prince Christopher here, I don’t expect anything would happen to you,” my brother said, lifting his eyes to meet the prince who had strode over.

The prince had reclaimed his dazzling smile. “Please inform your grandfather and Marquess Bernstein that I’ve met every single one of their conditions. I would appreciate it if they would overlook the fact that I exceeded their time limit.”

Alfred slipped a bittersweet smile and nodded. “I’ll be sure to do that.” Then sharply corrected his tone to say, “However...if I ever see my sister look so heartbroken again, even if it means mobilizing all of the brainpower at the Bernsteins’ disposal, I will make sure you don’t get away with it. So keep that in mind.”

The prince’s face gave a small twitch. “I will take that to heart,” he replied, voice stiff.

Lord Alexei cut in with a long sigh, passing several documents over to my brother. Then he added, “As for the holiday you requested, if we were to grant you that time off, the prime minister would collapse from overwork in three days. The Ministry of Finance as well. In Marquess Bernstein’s absence, confusion and chaos would reign, and the national treasure’s recovery would be in vain and begin its decline once more. Therefore, under the authority of His Majesty, you have been denied.”

“Well, I figured that would be the case,” said Alfred in defeat. The two were already close, given that they were both civil officials.

Judging by the way his shoulders sank as he looked at the documents, he must’ve felt the same as my father, wanting to break away to read to his heart’s content. I felt bad knowing I was the only one in such a fortunate position.

Lord Alexei’s icy blue eyes turned sharp, having seen straight through my brother’s heart. “Besides, you Bernsteins,” he began to say, only for my brother to cut him off in a panic.

“Uhh, umm, Your Highness! And Eli too. His Majesty and the prime minister would like to see you two. They requested that you ‘report in detail.’”

This time it was Prince Christopher’s turn to act flustered as he drew me close to him. “Tell them we have an urgent matter and will require a bit of extra time. A most important affair, one that’s life or death to the royal family. Uncle, Alex, I will be entrusting you with delivering my message.” He blurted that out quickly, then dragged me along with him and fled the room.

The people we left behind watched us with exasperated looks, and once again I had a question mark floating inside my head.

A matter of life or death to the royal family...?

~.~.~.~

He dragged me the rest of the way to his office. After having the staff pour us some tea, he quickly shooed everyone else away until it was just the two of us.

There was one thing I wanted to ask—had to ask—first, before anything else.

...Why are you here right now with me, Your Highness?

For someone who had spoken of an “urgent matter, one of life or death to the royal family,” he sure enjoyed drinking his tea leisurely. Plus, the way he sighed with his whole body sounded as if he were utterly relieved.

Then he faced me and slowly outstretched his hands. One hand lingered at the cusp of my cheek, just close enough to touch but far enough not to, the tip of his finger brushing against my ear and tangling inside the fluffy locks of my hair.

“I’ve finally caught you,” he said.

The smile on his face was far sweeter than any I’d seen before, and my cheeks instantly burned red, all the way to the tops of my ears. His lips spread even wider, his sunny blue eyes softening.

“I’m sorry, Eli, for causing so many misunderstandings and so much anxiety for you.”

I nearly tilted my head in confusion, but froze when I remembered doing so would mean touching his hand.

The prince chuckled mischievously as he continued. “Actually, four years ago...no, in reality it started almost ten years ago... Well, I digress, your grandfather and Marquess Bernstein said they would accept our marriage if I fulfilled certain conditions.”

“What conditions?” I asked.

“Well, the first one was to make the nobles agree to our marriage without using the Bernsteins’ hidden name. The second was for you to be more interested in me than you are in books.”

I was at a loss for words.

His Highness chuckled, lightly tracing his hand across my cheek before drawing it away. “The time limit was four years, until your eighteenth birthday. If I couldn’t meet their conditions before then, our engagement would be annulled and you, Alfred, and the marquess would all leave the palace to hole up in your territory.”

“Goodness...”

I hadn’t known any of this. In fact, this was entirely different from what I’d heard at the beginning.

The prince gave a small sigh. “That’s why I wasn’t able to force our marriage along, not even after I became of age. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He looked me right in the eye as he delivered his apology.

I recoiled a bit, trying desperately to tamp down my hammering heart. “If you’d only told me from the start,” I said.

“Indeed.” His blue eyes grew distant, as if staring vacantly. “If I’d told you back then, the absolute first thing you would’ve said is, ‘You needn’t go to such trouble. Please just arrange for a different bride.’”

“...”

I had nothing to say in my defense. I must admit, it was true that back then I was lured in by access to the royal archive. Even so, if he would have explained the situation to me, I was sure I would have accepted it and—oh, who am I kidding? If he’d told me that I could choose to keep my current (free) lifestyle or live as the crown prince’s betrothed, I would’ve chosen the former without a doubt. I wouldn’t budge on sacrificing precious reading time.

“...I’m sorry,” I said at last.

“It makes things awkward for me if you apologize about that. But well, at least in the end you finally showed more interest in me than books, didn’t you?” Then he added, “Although the way you did it was a bit...a lot different than what I’d envisioned.” For a moment it seemed as if his face had grown stiff, but then he flashed me a smile.

He was talking about how I shoved that book he’d given me back at him. It was true; in that moment, all books seemed valueless to me—me, the Bibliophile Princess.

“Your Highness,” I began to say but hesitated.

I understood that what had happened was a misunderstanding with false assumptions on my part. Even so, my emotions hadn’t quite processed all of that. Up until this morning, I’d thought that our annulment was just a matter of time and that His Highness and Lady Irene had feelings for one another.

“Yes?” His Highness responded gently, as if unraveling the tangle of my emotions. He casually, and yet firmly, clasped my hand as it rested on my lap. “I made you even more anxious with everything that happened with Lady Irene. I truly am sorry. I’ve been watching her ever since the commotion over Zelger being a fake.

“At first she was just spreading incoherent rumors so I let her be, but I couldn’t after she began aiming for your life. Whether that was because she was instigated by her father or because she sought to take advantage of the situation, I wasn’t sure. Either way, as soon as I knew you were in danger, I wanted to clap her in chains.”

The prince’s graceful features contorted, his expression changing from serious to anguished. “But if I did that, the real puppet master, Viscount Palcas, might have sacrificed her as a scapegoat and feigned ignorance to escape prosecution. So Alex persuaded me against it, and I had no choice but to leave you with two capable bodyguards while I tried to collect evidence against the viscount. That’s where he revealed his annoying talent for discretion. His actions were suspicious enough to stick out like a sore thumb, but credible evidence of his actions remained elusive.”

The way he glowered and combed a hand through his hair, as if recalling the irritation he’d felt, took me by surprise. Publicly he conducted himself in a way appropriate for his station, but when he was involved in government affairs or with his inner circle, this was the kind of attitude he took. When a man presented himself like that, unembellished and unadorned, it gave a woman the impression that she was special. It was sinful, really, for him to do that to me.

Unaware of my inner reaction, the prince suddenly let slip a scornful laugh. One I’d never heard before, one dangerous and terrifying.

“And while I was preoccupied with that mess, they dispatched an assassin to the palace. The poison Lady Irene used wasn’t lethal, it was just dangerous enough to make someone ill...but even so, I felt I’d run out of options.”

The prince suppressed the flood of hostility he felt, but the rage still dripped from his words and shone in his eyes. “Glen and Alex did what they could to investigate Lady Irene, but they weren’t able to obtain anything definitive. I knew it might look strange in the eyes of the people if I started investigating myself, but I had to do it. And so I had no other choice but to force you away from the palace for a bit.”

“...That’s why you sought my aunt’s help?”

“Yes,” he replied with a nod and a sigh. He suddenly stood, long legs striding over to his work desk where he retrieved a tome, then glanced back at me. “It just wound up causing a misunderstanding with you in the end. My mind went completely blank when you thrust your book back at me. But if not for all of that, you might not have realized how you really felt.”

The way he smiled as he spoke indicated he’d regained his composure. He kept the smile on his face as he approached, settling back into his seat beside me. The prince watched me, his eyes kind and yet mischievous, as if he could see right through to my pounding heart. I could feel the blood rise to my cheeks. Just how much was I dancing to his tune here?

“But I do regret that I hurt you enough for you to shove your book back at me. I’d been searching for this one for quite a while. I wanted to see the joy on your face when I gave it to you. Would you...accept it once more?” He held out the rare tome I’d returned to him the other day.

My heart ached as the memories flooded back. When I let go of it before, I’d felt an emptiness like all the color had drained out of me. I’d thought that the gift had been meaningless to him and that there’d been nothing special about it at all. Now that the misunderstanding had been cleared up and I could see the tension in his earnest eyes, feelings that couldn’t be described in words bubbled up within me. He said he’d searched for it for me—to see the joy on my face.

“Yes... Thank you, Prince Christopher.” It was as if I was taking a hold of those feelings I’d let go of back then, and as I gazed back into His Highness’s eyes, I had to desperately fight against the shame that drove me to want to flee.

His shoulders relaxed once I took the book in my hands. He looked relieved—genuinely relieved—from the bottom of his heart. “Eli.” Once more he took my hand in his and peeked at my face with a heartwarming smile. And as his dazzling smile and sunny blue eyes approached, the romantic atmosphere silently urged me to close my eyes.

“Your Highness...” As that sweet air enveloped us, I opened my mouth (as I always did) and cut in to ask, “What exactly is this ‘hidden name’ that my family has?”

The prince’s head fell in dejection just as he was an inch away from reaching me. “You could’ve saved that question for later, you know,” he mumbled, voice filled with grief for some reason.

Oh my, did I do something inappropriate?

He let out a soft, sorrowful sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if trying to recompose himself. Then he turned his gaze back at me. “Before I tell you about that, I want to make sure you don’t misunderstand.”

“All right.”

“I don’t want to be with you because of your hidden name as a Bernstein. That’s one thing I absolutely don’t want you to misunderstand.”

His beautiful blue eyes took hold of me and refused to release me. He’d been calling me by my nickname this entire time, but I hadn’t even had the opportunity to take note of that. His smile was so utterly intense I felt myself recoiling.

“If you don’t believe me, I can push you down right now and prove it to you.”

Excuse me?!

Frantic, I gathered my wits about me and whipped my head back and forth like a bobble head doll.

The prince grinned and launched into his explanation. The Bernstein family had a hidden name as “Sauslind’s Brain.” Only the royal family and a select few knew of this name. The kings whom the Bernsteins had served all had equally prosperous reigns.

“Well, that’s...an honor to hear, but...” I was a bit confused. Was he telling me that our house wasn’t actually just a collection of book lovers? But my brother and father were certainly no exception to that rule.

His Highness gave a bitter laugh. “Marquess Bernstein and Alfred showed enormous, outstanding skill from the moment they were employed at the palace. But the Bernsteins have no interest in power and instead choose to spend their time buried in books. So there were those, like the prime minister and Alex, who were just waiting for an opportunity to saddle them with an official position.”

“Oh my...”

It would seem the reason the two of them were weighed down by such heavy responsibility wasn’t solely because I was chosen as His Highness’s betrothed. I was surprised at this revelation, yet it also made sense. The reason my family was able to attach conditions to our engagement was thanks to the influence afforded to them by that hidden name. But compared to the collective authority of the palace, we were still nothing more than a minor noble family.

Prince Christopher laughed. “The fact that you Bernsteins don’t place much importance on your own skills is both a virtue and a flaw.” Then he added, “Unfortunately, that’s why for several generations now your family has spent their entire lives working in the archives.”

No, Your Highness, there’s nothing unfortunate about that. That would be the dream job for any Bernstein.

“You have shown those same skills yourself, Eli. Do you remember?”

“Not in the least,” I confessed, brows drawn together.

The prince let out a sigh that almost sounded like a laugh. “The embezzlement incident in the Weimar Region.”

I scanned back through my memory, using “Weimar Region” as a keyword. If memory served me right, that was just after I joined the prince as his betrothed. Back then, I was still unused to reading my books in His Highness’s office, and the whole thing started because something about the conversation between Alexei and the prince had captured my attention.

~.~.~.~

Weimar was a region facing out toward the sea with a port city. In recent years, fishing there had yielded poor catches and subsequently caused a revenue deficiency, thus His Highness and Lord Alexei were discussing a tax reduction.

Suspicious, I voiced my doubts without hesitation. “Hasn’t Weimar had a good fishing haul these past six months?” The prince blinked in surprise and replied coolly, seeking more information, so I spoke frankly. “I read about it in a book that came out a month ago, a travel log by author Dan Edold, one talking about the fishing techniques of the Weimar Region. In it, he wrote about how delicious the region’s delicacies—which use the sami fish—are.”

Lord Alexei furrowed his brows as if to say, “And what’s your point?” He didn’t actually say the words himself, but I could hear the question in my head, causing me to falter. Still, I answered him.

“Author Dan’s literary style isn’t for everyone, so he’s not very popular, but his records are accurate. He never mentioned anything about the Weimar Region suffering from poor fishing hauls. And the book was written with materials he collected when he visited this year, so he wasn’t referencing the past. Furthermore...” I hesitated a bit. This was a bit embarrassing to say. “I was curious and wanted to know what exactly sami cuisine was like, so...I sent for a copy of the community newsletter.”

“The community newsletter?” His Highness echoed in surprise.

I nodded. “I couldn’t find any cookbooks, so I thought there might be something written in the community newsletter. The contents of it were quite lively and interesting, so I sent for copies of each one for the past six months. There were no articles mentioning anything about a poor fishing haul. In fact, it mentioned just the opposite; business was booming for the fishermen. There were also a number of fliers regarding sami cuisine as well. There was nothing about it that gave me the impression they were struggling economically from bad catches though.”

Things wouldn’t be so lively there if the fishing industry were suffering, nor would the fishermen have booming businesses if that were the case. And there wouldn’t be such a number of delicacies using fish as their ingredient either.

After I shared all of that, His Highness and Alexei suddenly turned grim and regarded one another. The prince immediately gave his orders. “Alex, conduct an immediate investigation on the liege lord of the Weimar Region and the consul.”

Soon after, it was discovered that they were colluding and abusing the law, and their embezzlement was brought to light.

The expression on my face must have looked pitiful, I was sure. “But you and Lord Alexei were the ones who researched it and uncovered their crimes, no?” It was no accomplishment of mine.

Prince Christopher laughed and shook his head. “If not for what you told us, we’d never have realized. Plus, you were the one who published that cookbook, weren’t you? That man from earlier today mentioned it as well, but that was what caused the boom in seafood popularity.

“That was also the first time I’d ever even heard that something like a ‘community newsletter’ existed. You were also the one who noticed the short column with the housewife writing about her everyday life and recommended it for publishing. And since that was so resoundingly popular, the publishing companies are now watching to see what captures your interest next.”

I was a bit flabbergasted. The reason those recipes were collected into a cookbook was because our house’s cook requested as much. As for the comment columns that were combined into a book, that was simply because I wanted to read them all together. I had no idea what would catch on in this world and what wouldn’t.

“But your biggest achievement was probably the incident with Maldura.”

I tipped my head down thoughtfully. Now that he mentioned it, I did remember giving several (unsolicited) remarks before, during one of his meetings.

On top of the usual faces seen in His Highness’s office, there were others involved with crop management there as well. Wheat had seen a bountiful harvest this year, so they were trying to plan how to keep the market from collapsing as a result.

“You should buy up as much as you can to stockpile,” I said at the time.

The prince prompted me for an explanation with an air about him that indicated he was used to my intrusions. I still felt a bit unsure of myself but proceeded to explain nonetheless. “Six months ago when I helped air out some of the books in the royal archives, we discovered a memorandum from the curator three generations prior...”

Lord Alexei, accustomed to the way I led into my explanations from seemingly out of nowhere, motioned for me to continue.

“According to that memorandum, in the year it was written Sauslind saw a bountiful harvest, but other countries suffered a cold wave and drought. The aftermath of those disasters sent those countries into political disarray domestically and culminated in Maldura launching an invasion on us.”

“And you’re trying to say the same thing will happen this year?”

“With all due respect, there’s been no such report from the meteorologists.” The agriculture commissioner regarded me with suspicion. Crop harvests and weather were deeply connected, so of course they were already coordinating with the meteorologists.

I hesitated before responding, “Climate disasters don’t necessarily happen every year we have a bountiful harvest. I believe that’s what makes it difficult for meteorologists to predict their occurrence. But then I also remembered there was an academic book from almost fifty years ago—one that’s now out of print—a weather log called Breath of Ars by author Yulin Coral. An identical incident was recorded there.”

I recalled the volume, one I’d read in our regional library long ago. “Author Coral’s book recorded the same precedent as the memorandum, and Coral tried to bring attention to the matter, but their book relied on myths and was discounted for being unacademic, which is why it fell out of print. Still, the point of author Coral’s argument is the exact same.

“As for the memorandum from the archives, the author wrote that when they were younger, the same phenomenon occurred in other countries. In Breath of Ars, Coral also mentioned that this precedent appeared in the region on a much smaller scale. Both of these people believed that there were certain conditions that would trigger this climate disaster, that there was a law governing them.”

“Certain conditions?”

“Indeed,” I said, “and I was curious, so I looked into it myself.”

It wasn’t just Sauslind Kingdom. If bountiful harvests continued throughout one portion of the Ars continent, that would trigger a climate disaster in another region. Those conditions were difficult to discern, however, since they weren’t one hundred percent accurate. Still, I suspected you could make a statistically-based prediction. So I sought the cooperation of one of the other unoccupied meteorologists and a writer specializing in climate, consulted Prince Theodore, and collected climate information from other countries—which, of course, proved difficult to obtain. Information from other countries often tended to be hard to get a hold of. We were still in the midst of searching back through the continent’s merchant’s records, but...

“Most likely, or rather, there’s a seventy percent chance that the northwestern part of the continent, including Maldura, will suffer from a cold wave this year.”

A wave of tension ran through the faces of those gathered.

“Could I ask to see those statistics?” said the commissioner.

I sent along a note to give Prince Theodore an overview of what was happening, but Lord Alexei calmly asked us to hold off on sending for the chamberlain.

“Even if your predictions on the damages of this cold wave are accurate, what reason does that give for our country to buy up the wheat?” He continued, “In fact, I think we should just regulate the market and keep an eye on circulation.”

“Indeed,” Lord Glen agreed, with the face of a military man. “We should strengthen our watch around the Malduran border. There’s a good chance they’ll try to invade. We should contact the marquess there and prepare a countermeasure.”

“Do you plan to meet fire with fire every time this happens?” I asked quietly. Every time I read history books, there was always one thing I found strange. Why did it have to come to war? Why didn’t those who perpetrated war try to learn from their forebears?

I went on. “Does it give you peace of mind to bolster our country’s defenses when you feel the threat of another country’s might? Is it the way of a civilized country to meet violence with violence? We aren’t barbarians. We’re civilized people equipped with wisdom as our weapon.”

The room fell dead silent.

I continued to voice my thoughts. “It’s easy to start war. However, you also lose a substantial amount (of books, primarily) in the process. That is what history has taught me. We should not wait for war to be waged against us. If we truly are a civilized country, we should nip it in the bud before it begins.”

“I see your point,” muttered Lord Alexei, deep in thought. “That would be the ideal approach, as Lady Elianna said, but do you think that logic of yours is something a country like Maldura, that prides itself on brute force, can comprehend?”

I smiled back at him. “No, I don’t. But why must we respond by lowering ourselves to another’s level? We have our own way of doing things. Is it not the role of our civil officials to use their wit and intellect to come up with such countermeasures?”

Lord Glen looked as if he’d broken into a slight cold sweat.

Lord Alexei’s ice blue eyes gleamed sharply.

But it was Prince Christopher who let out a snicker. “Alex, you lost this one. No matter how just the cause, war is an act of murder. The age of warring countries, where the victor is heralded for their might, is over. This is a different age. All that’s left in the wake of war is lives you can never regain and deep-seated resentment likely to trigger another conflict. As someone set to inherit the throne of a kingdom, I don’t want to step into war lightly. If there is something we can do to prevent it, we should consider our options.

“Send for a meteorologist, my uncle, and the statistics that Elianna researched. Deliver a notice to His Majesty and the prime minister that I want to hold an emergency meeting with them first thing this afternoon.” The prince briskly distributed his orders and everyone set to work.

I felt a responsibility as the person who had researched those statistics so, as impertinent as it was, I took a seat at the edge of the meeting.

That was the story the divisional officer from before had been referring to—the story of how our country avoided war with Maldura.

I shrank back, recalling the number of impertinent things I’d said at the time.

The prince gazed at me softly. “Ever since that incident, you’ve been popular with the military housewives and mothers. No one wants to send their husband or son off to a battlefield.”

“...Nonetheless, that wasn’t something I achieved on my own.”

There were those that had been opposed to my proposal, of course. But His Highness and some other key figures who supported the proposal suppressed the opposition, thereby indebting the Maldurans to us while also displaying Sauslind’s humanitarianism to surrounding countries. Our accomplishment was also thanks in part to the meteorologists and others who cooperated to see it through, as well as the memorandum and book upon which our prediction of the climate disaster had been based.

“You’re the one who started it all,” the prince said in a voice as quiet as the winds that buffet the base of Mt. Jifu (a simile I read in The Travels of Parco Molo).

Somehow I managed to think up a rebuttal. “But spreading the Suiran weave among high society was not my work.”

“But you are the one who began its resurgence.”

I was at a loss for words. After the climate incident, I read an old account of a traveling tradesman which had a rare mention of a now-forgotten textile. He spoke of how long ago, paper wasn’t as widely used as it is today, so there was a custom of recording current events at the time onto fabrics. Curious as to what kind of fabric this could be, I used my connections and put in a request with an artisan after speaking with them about the details of the technique. The end result of this venture was the Suiran weave.

Still, the one who—

“Well, admittedly the true source for its renewed popularity was Countess Storrev and her daughters,” the prince spoke amusedly, making my expression all the more pitiful for it.

My deceased mother was from the Storrev family. Her younger sister, my aunt, had taken a groom who then succeeded the family title in place of the eldest son who had died young. This was the same aunt who had injured her hip a few days prior and forced me to read romance novels at length for her.

My aunt had three daughters that were all very rambunctious—or rather, to put it politely, very lively and heavily into fashion. My luck ran out the moment they spotted the completed Suiran weave I had delivered. They swiped it out of my hands before I could say anything with strange proclamations of, “We’ll spread this among the nobles!” Then in the blink of an eye, its popularity soared, which later resulted in written protests mixed with despair from the weavers in the marquess’s territory.

The prince chuckled teasingly. “Your family is just protecting you. They’re making sure no harm comes to your good reputation among the nobles.”

I fell silent for a moment. It was true that my aunt and cousins had fussed over me since my mother passed away when I was young. “At any rate...” I continued, “The accomplishment of seeing through the Zelger counterfeit belongs to my brother, not me.”

Once again I tried to rebut the prince’s argument, but as usual he simply smiled and said, “But it was you who first noticed something was strange about it.”

This all happened about a month ago.

I had just come from the archives and entered His Highness’s office to discover the prince and Lord Alexei with subdued looks on their faces as they stood around a piece of porcelain. Soon I, too, found myself staring at it.

When His Highness noticed my presence, he was gracious enough to explain, “It appears Zelger has been found.” Zelger was a rare piece of porcelain, said to be the royal family’s hidden treasure.

I regarded it at length with curiosity. “Hmm,” I whispered to myself as I tilted my head to the side. “Has it already been appraised?”

“Yes, the appraisal report was included with it,” answered Lord Alexei. “Is there something amiss?”

I furrowed my brow at his reply. There was something off about it, but surely if the appraisal report had been included with it, there could be no mistake about its authenticity. Still, somehow I just couldn’t shake my suspicions.

“Elianna?”

At Prince Christopher’s prompting, I glanced back into his blue eyes, and it was as if my doubts solidified. “I believe it’s a counterfeit,” I said, then stepped toward the two surprised men and bent down to inspect the item in question. I held my hand—the one that wasn’t currently holding books—up over the porcelain to cast a shadow against it, confirming what I already suspected.

“The reason Zelger is regarded as the royal family’s hidden treasure,” I explained, “is because, according to an artbook, it boasts a color known as ‘Zelger Blue,’ a hue born from a unique mixture of colors and minerals no longer present in the modern era. ‘Zelger’ itself is an ancient word meaning ‘dawn.’ In other words, ‘Zelger Blue’ refers to the azure color of the sky at dawn... By all appearances, this one here looks like a simple, flat shade of blue.”

“You’re certain?” Lord Alexei asked, the tension visible on his face.

I shrank back, unconfident. “My knowledge on artifacts and antiques is limited, so I cannot guarantee... My brother might be able to make a more definitive assessment.”

Alfred was quite knowledgeable when it came to fine arts (or rather, its literature). So I told them he might be more knowledgeable about Zelger than me. They immediately called him in to examine the item, and the first thing to come out of his mouth was—

“It’s a counterfeit.” He spoke without a shadow of a doubt. Alfred pointed out clearly (and in more detail than I had) exactly what was off about the piece, such as the design.

His Highness slumped back in his chair. With a hand on his forehead and a face taut with a mix of emotions, he sighed. “It’s a blessing that we discovered it before it was publicly appraised by the royal treasury’s inspector. Otherwise Earl Casull would have taken the fall for it.”

Alfred’s brow quirked in response, but the prince cut the conversation short by saying, “Please keep this under wraps for now.” After that, Lord Glen was brought in and they proceeded to talk in private with heavy looks on their faces, so I wasn’t involved any further. And for some reason that conversation was what led to the whole incident with the viscount and his daughter.

Final Act: And Then There Were Two

My expression had remained miserable the entire time, and His Highness gave a puzzling laugh. “I, myself, was agonizing over how I could possibly get these nobles—ones who were only interested in outward appearances, who were too preoccupied with political power struggles to think of anything else—to accept you,” he said with a great big grin on his face that (pardon me for saying so) gave no indication he’d felt distressed at all.

“After all,” he continued, “you Bernsteins were content with your weakened status, as always, and completely indifferent to the politically ambitious houses looking down on you. How was I supposed to suddenly change people’s opinion? But then you demonstrated your worth all by yourself. There wasn’t even any need for me to weave together any elaborate plans.”

What on earth was he talking about...?

His Highness also tilted his head slightly. “We just talked about it, didn’t we? You silenced all of them—the court nobility, the government officials, the ladies of high society—all with your own power. And you went even further. You raised your reputation as the Bibliophile Princess to soaring heights among Sauslind’s citizens.” He went on, “Now you’re known as a princess with foresight, for your ability to avoid war and produce fashion, and also as an affectionate noble with keen insight into the common people’s daily lives.”

...Your Highness, of whom do you speak? Affectionate, me? The woman referred to as the “Library Ghost”? And keen insight? Are you referring to my gluttonous interest in sami cuisine?

There must be some mistake here, I thought, drawing away from him.

His Highness merely smiled and closed the gap between us. “I never dreamed you’d solidify your position all by yourself. That made me happy, Eli. It meant you wanted to stand beside me as well.”

“Pardon...?!” My true feelings slipped out. I panicked, flustered, but the prince’s dazzling smile closed in, and it was then that the realization hit me. “Your Highness.” I gazed back firmly into those blue eyes of his, prepared for our heads to bump if he dared encroach any further. “Please stop obfuscating the matter.”

“...Tsk.” I could hear the click of his tongue, even as he averted his eyes. Something was different about him today. I felt as if I were seeing a completely new side of him.

Once I thought it over, I realized something was afoot. I’d certainly given advice and accomplished a number of things, but for word to spread at such a grand scale, and for it to become so exaggerated that people mistook those events as my personal achievements, required information manipulation. The matter with Earl Casull was a good example. It was also clear from the course of our conversation that only one person stood to benefit from instigating it.

His Highness ran a hand through his dazzling blond hair, expelling a quiet sigh. “Very well, I will admit to sticking my hand in to improve your reputation a bit. But even without my help, you were doing enough on your own to earn the people’s approval. Or do you doubt that?”

I lost my ground when he turned his eyes straight back at me. “Your Highness... Why would you go to such lengths?”

The name “Sauslind’s Brain” still weighed heavily upon me. Had the prince accepted such troublesome conditions just so he could obtain me for that name? Feeling gloomy, I cast my eyes down, but His Highness put a hand to my cheek and lifted my face back up. His fingers pressed firmly against my skin, his gaze intense.

“Eli, I already told you, didn’t I? I didn’t pick you because of the Bernsteins’ hidden name.”

I saw my own eyes reflected in his—saw them waver, hesitating.

The prince’s sigh, though soft, seemed to drown out my anxiety. “Then again...I already know you don’t remember.”

My head filled with doubt, but the prince kindly smiled as he explained that the two of us had met once before, almost ten years ago.

~.~.~.~

The prince had been raised with special care as the heir to Sauslind, and thanks to being naturally gifted as well, he was the picture of a conceited, domineering prepubescent. One day, he was in the royal library and in a foul mood, so he began taking out his anger on the books. He punched them, kicked them, and used them as target practice—

“Eli! Don’t get angry at me again. You already scolded me plenty back then!”

Come now, Your Highness. You needn’t get so flustered. If you have seen your ways, that’s enough for me. Oh dear, what are you breaking into a cold sweat for? No need to act so dramatic.

“Anyways...”

Back then, a girl younger than His Highness had slapped him across the face.

Well, that certainly does require some courage, but how disrespectful, I thought.

The girl was possessed with such intensity that even His Highness was speechless as she admonished him. “Apologize to the books!” Somehow he managed to regain his composure, but the moment he tried to object, she said, “It matters not who you are or where you’re from. These are the books of our ancestors, of people who can no longer speak to us anymore. Were you not taught that it’s inappropriate to commit injustice against those without a voice?”

“Y-You’re being way too dramatic,” the young prince said. “They’re just books.”

After a pause, the girl asked, “How old are you?”

“What? I-I’m twelve.”

“These books you were punching are history books written a hundred or more years ago, yet even now they continue to be reprinted. Before these ancient tomes, your twelve years makes you nothing more than an infant in diapers—a freshly hatched chick that still hasn’t fully escaped its shell. Now apologize to our great ancestors!”

Those words, coming from a girl who was younger than him, overwhelmed His Highness. His pride, ballooned from years of baseless praise on his wit and intelligence, crumbled, and he expressed remorse for his actions and apologized.

He became interested in the girl after that and started visiting the royal library to hear her talk about books. The content she shared from the tomes she read differed completely from what his instructor had taught him. It didn’t take long for the boy’s heart to flutter with joy, not for the books but for the girl who spoke of them. That was why, after looking into the girl’s background, he went to consult his father and the prime minister, wanting to keep the girl at his side.

“Father and the prime minister suddenly started panicking,” the prince shared, staring vacantly into the distance for some reason.

I had to ask. “Was she that esteemed of a person? Had the princess of another kingdom somehow snuck into our own?”

“Eli.” The prince’s gaze was lukewarm for some reason. “I’m talking about our past together right now.”

I blinked in surprise.

Oh... Don’t tell me that girl was actually me?

The prince let out an audible, breathy sigh. His blue eyes lacked their usual intensity. “I can’t believe I have shared this much and you still don’t remember... Well, no. I must have left an absolutely awful impression, so maybe I should count my blessings that you don’t recall.”

Please, Your Highness, don’t lose heart. After all, I have the memory of a goldfish when it comes to people.

His Highness massaged his temples, as if smoothing out the wrinkle between his brows, and continued the story.

That was the first time he learned of the hidden Sauslind name associated with the Bernsteins (and by extension, me). He was then warned by His Majesty and the prime minister that it would be difficult to draw me into the royal family, given that the Bernsteins weren’t swayed by power. Moreover, because of our hidden name, they advised him to avoid making any demands that might upset our family.

The prince refused to heed their warnings and tried to approach my father, the marquess, indirectly. But the very next day, I was sent back to our territory where my grandfather had holed himself up.

“Oh goodness...”

That was enough to finally stir my recollection. I remembered now that after my father lost my mother, he fell so deep into depression that he completely ignored books and refused to let my brother or I leave his side. That was why I had memories of spending my youth in the capital before suddenly being sent back to our territory, alongside my brother, when I was nine. I didn’t step foot inside the capital again until my societal debut when I was fourteen.

The prince smiled bitterly, though I wasn’t sure why. “I really wish I could kick my younger self in the back of the head for being so foolish back then.”

Pardon, Your Highness, but I’m fairly certain that’s physically impossible.

“Well, anyhow, I appealed to the marquess and your grandfather numerous times only to be rebuffed. By the time you finally made your societal debut, you’d grown ridiculously cute, but you didn’t even remember me, and you were oblivious when other men tried to approach you!”

You’re scaring me, Your Highness. Please calm down. Also, you have heard of the sayings, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” and, “Love is blind,” right? Not that I have a hobby of denigrating myself, and I do realize that sounds terribly disrespectful to the prince, but still I thought he was exaggerating.

Feeling even more restless than I did a moment ago, I drew away once more, but the prince captured me again in his steady blue eyes.

“I mean it, you lack any self-awareness whatsoever. There was one time an ambassador from another country tried to persuade you to go back with him to his country, but you were completely clueless. Do you know how mad you drove me with worry...?! Please, be a little more conscious of the fact that your appearance draws people’s interest.”

“Um... Are you trying to tell me that—and I’m not sure I believe you—I, the Library Ghost, am actually quite popular with people?”

His blue eyes, deep with emotion, darkened. I felt a tremor run through me. “Eli, whether you’re a library ghost or as dense as those books you love to read, my feelings for you won’t change. But maybe I need to drive the point home. After almost ten years of waiting, I’ve finally caught you. After all of that, no matter what happens now, I’m not going to let go of you. Okay?”

I flushed red and tried to pull away, but since my hand was still trapped in his, I could only arch back. His explanation was so frank and candid that even someone as thick-headed as me understood now that it was me he truly desired, not the hidden name of the Bernsteins. And yet, even so...

“B-But, Your Highness, I haven’t undertaken the necessary princess training.”

He stared blankly, blinking, his face screwed up as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Beneath his breath he murmured, “I never would have guessed you would worry about that type of thing.”

You might want to speak a bit more softly if you don’t want me to hear, Your Highness.

“You haven’t taken the training,” he agreed, “but you have passed the exam. Thus it was decided you don’t require the training.”

Excuse me, what now...?

“When you first became my fiancée, you attended a tea party with my mother and the court ladies and underwent their interrogation, remember? That’s where they confirmed that your knowledge, education, manners and...well, social skills we’ll leave aside...but they found nothing wrong with your appearance or disposition.”

“I-I’ve never heard anything of this...”

“Yeah, because I didn’t say anything.” And then he added, “I figured you would run off if I did.”

I realized then that the dazzling smile on his face was actually a devil’s smile. And as he approached, I wondered if there was any way for me to escape.

“I’m not exactly skilled at navigating high society,” I said. That was an absolute necessity for a queen.

Also, Your Highness, please stop kissing my hand. When you do, my heart pounds so hard it feels as if it might burst right out of my chest.

“My mother isn’t skilled at diplomacy.”

Pardon?

He explained, “She’s not good with the culture, values, or languages of other countries, that kind of thing. Whenever honored guests come to visit, she always calls you to stay at the palace, doesn’t she?” Then he added, “Because you’re extremely proficient in those areas.”

Now that he mentions it, I thought, recalling. It happened so frequently I’d begun to think it was just my role as the crowned prince’s betrothed. Foreign language was a natural area of study if you wanted to read books in their native tongue. There were translations, of course, but written in its native language, a book carried subtle turns of phrase and nuances consistent with its culture.

“Hey, Eli.” His Highness took a quiet breath and, with a warm smile still plastered on his face, gently said, “Perfection may be demanded from you for your elevated status, but you’re only human. Humans have strengths and weaknesses. Fortunately, you and I have people around us to help compensate for ours. But more than anything, I want you to be by my side from now on. Do you not wish for the same?”

My heart throbbed more fiercely than it ever had before.

The prince’s eyes, blue and clear as a cloudless sky, captured me and drew me in. It was as if all the pain I’d carried with me up until this morning was being washed away. So desperately had I wanted to be by his side, but so sure was I that it would be impossible. It had been excruciating and lonely, beyond my ability to cope.

“Can I really...stay at your side?” I asked.

Prince Christopher beamed happily. “Eli. Elianna. The only person I have ever wished—will ever wish—to be at my side is you.”

I felt as if I were floating on air the way my heart thrummed, a smile naturally forming on my face. “For the first time I realized that there’s a world out there that I can’t understand through books alone.”

The prince chuckled and cupped his hand around my cheek. Those blue eyes of his grew larger and larger as he leaned in. And just before he reached my lips, he whispered, voice full of affection, “My dear, sweet Bibliophile Princess.”