Bibliophile Princess: Volume 1 Read online

  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 Elia
nna...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 he
r 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.