Bibliophile princess vol.., p.1
Bibliophile Princess: Volume 2, page 1
Table of Contents
Cover
Color Illustration
Character Profiles
Arc 1: The Flower Protector
Arc 2: The Brilliant Imperial Guard and the Three Keys
Arc 3: The Desire to Cheat
Afterword
About J-Novel Club
Copyright
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Arc 1: The Flower Protector
Prologue
Something drifted lightly through the air.
A bleak palette colored the world around her; it was a desolate winter scene, with heavy clouds blotting out the sky above, dropping flakes that swayed as they fell. Yet strangely, she felt comforted by the sight. She pressed a hand against her hair to tamp it down as the wind buffeted her. It was almost like watching small white petals dancing on air, and before she knew it, her stiff lips had softened into a smile.
Her breath came out in visible puffs that soon vanished. She’d made a request to visit the land she loved, to tread upon it—see it one last time so that she might burn the image of it into her mind before she bid it farewell.
She could never return here again, not for the rest of her life, most likely. By her own actions, she had triggered her “death,” one brought by the very hands of the people she loved. Even so, even with all of that...the sight of the dancing snow brought feelings of nostalgia.
She had no regrets. Not even if it meant she could never step foot on this land again, not even if it meant her name was tainted and she lost her noble status. The landscape of this place she so loved was carved into the back of her eyelids, such that she would never forget.
“Ladybird...” The feelings she had kept hidden in her heart manifested themselves in that softly spoken word. She hoped what that name represented would continue to be a cornerstone, even after she was long dead and gone. As she prayed, she glanced up at the sky. The clouds scattered cold, white petals.
Chapter 1: An Autumn Sendoff
The ordinarily green land around him was painted in a colorful array of autumn hues. He felt the sun on his skin, bringing a prosperous crop harvest, and his thoughts wandered to the peace reigning over this land.
Located in a key position just west of Sauslind Kingdom’s capital of Saoura was the Eidel Domain. It was a land rich with history, where remnants of a fortress from the time of Sauslind’s famous Hero King still endured.
There was something almost feral about the man’s black eyes as he narrowed them. “...So this is the place that killed ‘her.’” His voice was thick with an emotion that would’ve been impossible for anyone else to read, and his disquieting word choice made the air around him heavy with tension.
The man continued to mumble, seeming almost amused. He wore a bold smile on his face that looked both boyishly innocent and vicious at the same time. “Elianna Bernstein... Let’s see if you live up to my expectations...or not.”
If any onlookers had been present to hear those words or to witness his sharp gaze and cruel smile, then they surely would have trembled in fear as they wondered... Just what would he do to this person if they weren’t able to live up to his expectations?
His words were swept away by the wind, and an unseen shadow fell over the land of Eidel as it began to bustle with activity, preparing to host an event coinciding with the autumn harvest festival.
~.~.~.~
There was a restless energy permeating the palace of Sauslind that day. The halls, which normally maintained an aura of refinement and rigidity, now echoed with the hurried footsteps of one Elianna Bernstein—in other words, me. Such behavior would ordinarily warrant harsh reprimand for a lady. It certainly might wound my reputation, but at the moment I was far too pressed for time to consider that.
“You don’t need to rush like that, m’lady. I’m pretty sure he won’t leave before you get there anyhow.” The man accompanying me with an easygoing tone and leisurely pace was a Bernstein manservant by the name of Jean. He was gangly and in his mid-thirties, and he had an undependable, sullen air about him. The two of us had been well-acquainted for years, so he spoke to me with obvious familiarity.
I was so focused on hastening my steps that I didn’t have the time to spare on a response, so instead I fixed him with a reproachful glare.
Jean didn’t even show a hint of remorse toward me, despite the fact that I was the noble daughter of his employer. In fact, he responded to my silent protest with a mere shrug. “I told you when it was time, just like I was supposed to. The other staff approached you about it too, but you’re the one who let our words go in one ear and out the other.”
I was at a complete loss for how to defend myself. I expelled a pitiful sigh, which was barely audible through the rest of my huffing and puffing.
Jean heedlessly interjected, “This way will be quicker.” Familiar with these passages, he led me down a shorter route. Ever since I began visiting the palace regularly, he started accompanying me at times in place of a maid.
I primarily locked myself away in the royal archives, so perhaps he was more knowledgeable about the layout of the palace than I was. The thought of that brought out the competitive side of me.
As we continued along the path he’d selected, I could see the main gate and a crowd of people gathered in the distance. The imperial guard seemed flustered when they noticed us and began urging us to hurry. As much I appreciated their urgency, I was winded from hurrying here and my mind was too preoccupied feeling relieved and accomplished that we’d actually made it on time.
The air was tense, as if a court lady with a strict sense of etiquette had discovered me and was about to start straightening my clothes while delivering a short sermon. I could feel the exhaustion mounting.
Just then, to my relief, someone cut in. “Eli!” His voice was brilliant, clear as the autumn sky, threatening to suck me in—so charismatic that it was almost as if it were just the two of us here.
The crowd of people naturally split, the other ministers and nobles that were there to bid their farewells now making a path for me. The person waiting on the other side made my heart sing louder than it ever had before. Though my feet were leaden with exhaustion now that we’d finally arrived, they naturally hastened toward him. As I rushed forward, my breathing ragged, he spread his arms wide open as if this were some kind of reunion scene in a stage play.
This man was the heir to Sauslind’s throne, Crown Prince Christopher. He was both great and wise, a young royal with a promising future ahead of him. The prince had dazzling blond hair, sky blue eyes, handsome features, a fit physique, and an impressive presence. He had quite the kingly disposition for his age, and Sauslind was proud to call him their future ruler.
I flashed him a smile just as broad as the one he’d given me and said, “I’m here, Your Highness.” Keenly aware of what ladies’ social etiquette demanded, I came to a hard stop just a few steps short of his outstretched arms.
“...Eli.” Our hero was visibly disappointed, dropping both his hands and his shoulders.
I blinked. Had I done something inappropriate?
The man before me certainly had an appearance and a presence about him that warranted the label “hero,” but this was a public place. Not to mention it would tilt a few heads in confusion if anyone were to refer to me as a “heroine.”
As I stood there, my breathing still uneven, the blond-haired, blue-eyed prince recomposed himself and let out a sigh. He reached out a soothing hand, brushing his fingers through the fluffy locks of my hair. His vivid blue eyes shone with affection, gleaming mischievously.
“Since my fiancée refused to appear, I was about to call off the whole public affair. Were you really that loathe to see me off?” His words and gaze seemed to tease me, causing my cheeks to heat up.
I, Elianna Bernstein, had been blessed with an engagement to the crown prince, otherwise nicknamed the handsome prince. I was neither the powerful daughter of some great noble nor a jaw-dropping beauty. As I had been told, the reason for my selection was partly out of political convenience. My family was known for being a long line of book lovers who would rather bury themselves in a tome than engage in political infighting for power or fame. Therefore, by selecting me, there would be little effect on the political climate at court.
Prince Christopher had taken that into account as he searched for a fake fiancée. When we first met, he had flashed that dazzling smile at me and said, “Lady Elianna, you need only stay by my side and read your books.”
Others would consider me eccentric; I already hailed from a family with an affinity for literature, but my own love of tomes was so extreme that it earned me the nickname “Bibliophile Princess.”
My appearance mirrored that of my late mother’s, from the faint hue of my fluffy hair to the ashen gray of my eyes. That bleak coloration and my generally stiff facial expressions had also earned me another shameful epithet—“Library Ghost.” But I also held a new title in the form of “the Crown Prince’s betrothed.”
From the time of our engagement, I spent years believing myself his bride-to-be in name only. At least that’s what I thought, until the beginning of this spring when another noble lady appeared who was rumored to be in a relationship with Prince Christopher. I actually witnessed a scene in which it appeared the two were maintaining a secret relationship. This convinced me that the woman he truly loved had at last appeared. I mentally prepared myself for the dissolution of our engagement only to be taken
At some point during the four years since I was named his betrothed, I had developed feelings for the prince. By the time I realized my feelings, I was certain it was all too late. Faced with the fact that the love between His Highness and this woman was seemingly mutual, I fell into a pit of despair. One so deep that the name “Bibliophile Princess” no longer seemed apt, for I hadn’t the heart to read any book.
Thanks to the ensuing uproar as things unfolded, I realized it was all a misunderstanding born of my own misinterpretations. In fact, I discovered that the prince had carried feelings for me since we first met nearly ten years ago. An indescribable sense of happiness wrapped itself around me, as if it were all just a dream come true. Our relationship had remained strong since then.
We waited for the fuss to settle before proclaiming it across the kingdom. The official wedding ceremony between Sauslind’s Crown Prince Christopher and his betrothed, Lady Elianna Bernstein, would commence in the spring of next year.
I now knew three things: I was never really a “fake fiancée,” our feelings for each other were mutual, and I would be able to stay at his side for a long time to come. I felt like I was floating on air. Yet this was also why I’d felt an intense loneliness ever since it was decided that the prince would have to leave the kingdom for a while on official business.
I stiffened, growing pale as I recalled the reason for my tardiness. As the Bibliophile Princess, it wasn’t unusual for me to coop myself up in the royal archives. Today I’d had a clear objective for doing so, but my sense of time lapsed as I grew engrossed in books, ultimately causing me to be late for the prince’s sendoff. This certainly was an error unbecoming of the prince’s betrothed.
“Your Highness, um...”
His blue eyes regarded me mischievously, his fingers intent on memorizing the texture of my hair. The prince seemed too impatient to wait for my reply, his handsome lips parting. “All you have to say is one thing: ‘Don’t go.’ Then I can just have Alex or my uncle attend this foreign ceremony in my stead.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, he was basically trying to say he would push his responsibilities off on someone else.
I blinked and replied evenly, “No, that won’t do, Your Highness.”
Ever since our official engagement was announced, His Highness has been unreserved in his affections for me out in public. I was happy and knew it was nothing to be embarrassed over, but I did wish he’d refrain from making comments about ignoring his royal obligations. Even if they were said in jest, they were still inappropriate given his status.
A sorrowful gaze clouded his clear blue eyes as he gave me his usual smile. “I can barely stand the thought of how lonely I will be without you for half a month. I’m sure I’ll spend every night dreaming of you... But what about you?”
Startled, I looked up. The strength of his gaze almost seemed to root me in place, causing my heart to hammer in my chest. I felt exactly the same. I wanted just as much to be by His Highness’s side. Of course I did, especially now that I knew our feelings were shared. It was all the more reason to feel melancholy at our separation. I was also concerned about his safety on the road.
Among the countries on the Ars Continent, Sauslind was relatively stable and wealthy, boasting high profits in exports. Still, the kingdom wasn’t entirely absent of crime, and not everywhere was entirely safe. This was especially true when it came to the crown prince. I hardly need to mention that such a social position made him an easy political target.
The place the prince was traveling to was a friendly nation to the southwest of us called Miseral Dukedom. The political climate at the moment was calm, so everyone agreed that there was no real threat to the prince’s well-being, but no one could know for sure that nothing would happen during his travels. It wasn’t as though I didn’t trust those in the imperial guard to keep His Highness safe, but my trust in them and my concern for the prince’s safety were separate issues. Which was precisely why I had cooped myself up in the royal archives to do some digging, seeking a method with which to protect the prince.
“Your Highness...” My hands moved unbidden, latching onto the prince’s traveling attire. I was at a loss, unsure if I should convey how lonely I felt. It was true I didn’t want him to go, but we couldn’t cancel a pre-planned diplomatic trip based on personal feelings. Caught between obligation and my own heart, I finally let slip what it was I had been researching. “...A doll with human hair or letters written in blood with a quill pen. Which would be more effective?”
“...Excuse me?” He used the same expression I often used in my head when I heard things that took me off guard.
Nonetheless, I pressed closer to him, growing more serious over the matter I had been turning over in my head for a while now. “It’s to protect you during your travels. Lady Therese suggested a handmade Fita bracelet. But you see, I...well, I’m not terribly dexterous with my fingers...”
Fita bracelets were handcrafted accessories made by weaving dozens of threads together to create a bracelet which one could then make a wish on before wearing themselves or gifting to someone else. It was an especially popular handicraft among women, who would pour their hearts into making it and pray for the safety of someone about to embark on a long journey.
My friend, Lady Therese, had taught me the basics of the craft. I had continued challenging myself to create the bracelet ever since the prince’s trip was announced, but alas. For some reason, all my attempts ended in what looked more akin to a dried out earthworm than a proper accessory. Lady Therese had fallen silent after seeing it, only to later suggest, “Maybe we should try something else.”
Lady Therese had gotten married three years ago to an older earl operating a trading business. Since she was accustomed to often being left home alone as a result, I had looked to her for advice. She was knowledgeable in regards to love charms and fortune-telling. Thus, she had been a fountain of wisdom for me ever since I realized my feelings for the prince. It was her teachings that had launched my research into charms. The subject turned out to be far more intriguing than I had initially anticipated, one with a history to it, and so, naturally, I was captivated.
As I probed into the field, I discovered that there were two methods said to be the most effective. However, using two charms at the same time would weaken their effect, so I’d been puzzling over which one I should choose.
“The doll will require that I collect a small sample of Your Highness’s hair. The other will require that I write your name repeatedly with my own blood as ink. If I take gentle care of the doll, you will be kept safe. If I use the quill pen, my feelings should reach the heavens, granting my wish. Personally, I find the pen route to be the most practical—”
The prince’s hand landed on his forehead as if he’d suddenly gotten dizzy. “...Eli,” he muttered, voice strained with sorrow, almost sounding resigned somehow. “Part of me wants to ask but part of me doesn’t want to know...” Finally he resolved himself and said, “Just out of curiosity, since those pens wear out fairly quickly, would it last through daily use?”
“No, you must only use that pen for the purposes of your wish. In other words, repeatedly writing the name of the person you care about over and over again.” I felt a bit embarrassed admitting as much in front of him and lowered my eyes.
The air around us seemed frozen solid, silence settling until someone dared whisper, “...Isn’t that a curse she’s talking about?” A few unable to contain themselves let snorts of laughter spill out. When I glanced in the direction of the noise, I saw some familiar faces among those gathered.
The one sniggering was the prince’s uncle and younger brother of the king, Prince Theodore. His hair was a deep gold, his eyes ultramarine. He always spoke in a low, composed voice, a hint of teasing filtering in. Prince Theodore had a captivating maturity about him as well that made him popular with the ladies. “I knew you were peeking through the section on incantations. So that’s what this was all about.”
Prince Theodore was the curator of the royal archives. Considering how the archives were almost like a second home to me, the two of us often engaged each other in book discussions. Although Prince Christopher was technically his nephew, the age gap between Prince Theodore and the king was such that he actually had a close relationship with His Highness.
