The Second Imperial Princess in the Library (1)
“Haaah……”
The raucous clanging of metal faded into the distance as First Imperial Princess Victoria stomped down the corridor. Only once her footsteps completely died away did I finally exhale the breath I'd been holding deep in my lungs, collapsing onto the soft bed with a thud.
Relief at having survived washed over me, but so did an overwhelming exhaustion that drained every ounce of strength from my body.
She really doesn't listen to reason.
To calm her rage, I'd racked my brain and tossed out some vague talk about military organization and cavalry formations. The mood hadn't been bad up to that point.
The problem was what she got excited about.
She'd gleefully described how her monstrous cavalry had trampled and shattered the dense infantry formations of my homeland, the Sterling Kingdom's northern defenses—like a child bragging about a toy, her eyes sparkling as she detailed the gruesome slaughter. It sent chills down my spine.
{Of course, separately from the terror, her explanation of the textbook yet unorthodox tactical maneuver—using the cavalry's overwhelming shock to smash through the infantry shield wall—was quite impressive. I found myself nodding along, genuinely intrigued.}
Desperate to soften the atmosphere, I'd asked about her childhood. Her response? At sixteen, on her first campaign, she'd beheaded the enemy commander in a single stroke and washed her face in his blood.
After taking the head of her first foe, she'd turned it into a goblet and forced the king of that nation to drink from it.
Hearing that brutal tale right to my face, I'd poured my soul into faking a gentle expression—my facial muscles were twitching on the verge of cramping.
But what infuriated me even more was…
“……My raspberry tart.”
I bit my lip, staring at the empty plate with only pitiful crumbs of cream left behind.
The woman who'd burst into my room sword in hand, throwing a tantrum just moments ago, had sat demurely with her knees together, cheeks flushed, munching away at the desserts the whole time. It was utterly surreal.
But the real issue was how much she'd eaten. Three fist-sized tarts! Including the glistening, jewel-like raspberry tart topped with wild berries—the one I'd been saving, dreaming of pairing it with hot tea the moment Amber and I returned from outside the imperial capital.
She'd shoveled it all into her mouth.
As a hostage, I couldn't complain or insult the Empire's first princess, so I just kicked my heels against the bed in helpless frustration.
That's when Amber slipped in through the shattered doorframe.
Her usual brisk energy was gone, replaced by deep fatigue etched on her face.
She glanced between the wrecked oak door and me sitting in front of the empty plates.
Then, without a word, she arched an eyebrow.
“……I'll have the palace carpenters fix the two doors and the marble floor back to normal right away, Your Highness.”
With that curt consolation, Amber shuffled off down the corridor, her steps half-soulless.
“…Wait, she broke it on the way out too?”
No reply came.
After a light lunch while the broken door and marble floor underwent temporary repairs, Amber asked cautiously.
“Is there anywhere you'd like to visit this afternoon?”
“Hmm. I'd like to see the grand library inside the palace. You boasted it's the largest in the Empire—no, the continent.”
Amber nodded eagerly and led the way.
Soon, the massive iron doors of the enormous grand library, nestled deep within the Imperial Palace, swung open.
I couldn't help but gape in genuine awe.
“Whoa…!”
From the dizzyingly high arched ceiling to the floor, it was all books—as far as the eye could see.
Vast shelves of centuries-old oak intertwined like a labyrinth, while magical lamps emitting a soft glow floated in clusters like starfields overhead.
The dry, alluring scent of aged paper from what must have been millions of volumes set my literature-obsessed heart pounding wildly.
“Impressive. Truly staggering. You could spend a lifetime here and never finish them all.”
“I'm glad it pleases Your Highness.”
As I excitedly scanned the shelves, Amber approached from behind and whispered.
“Just a heads-up: even His Imperial Majesty drops in unannounced sometimes for quiet contemplation. Don't let your guard down too much. There's a separate imperial family section, though.”
Recalling yesterday's suffocating audience in the Grand Audience Hall, I swallowed hard and nodded faintly.
“So, I can just browse books inside now?”
“Yes. I'll wait at the café in the central area. I don't really like books.”
“…Is that okay?”
“Well, if you run away, it'd be on me… but I trust you won't.”
“Of course not.”
I headed first to the history and geography section.
Pulling out a few thick, hardcover tomes on the Empire's founding history and maps of neighboring kingdoms, I settled by a window.
To boost my survival odds, I needed to master the Empire's dynamics and terrain perfectly.
But even a history buff like me started seeing stars after poring over dense pages of foreign topography for over an hour—my vision blurring, head spinning.
Ow, my head hurts. Should've started with military history…
Military history was usually fun; that would've been smarter.
I considered switching now, but my interest had waned—I just wasn't in the mood.
Maybe some novels?
Rolling my stiff neck, I stood and made my way to the literature section.
One thing I'd noticed since childhood: this world's culture wasn't that different from real Earth. My ex-girlfriend, the original author, had basically copy-pasted Earth's history, classics, even Latin quotes into her shallow worldbuilding.
Which led to absurdities like the Western-style imperial court using Mongolian as formal archaic speech.
My eyes skimmed the shelves of ornate, gold-embossed volumes until they locked on a worn but exceptionally thick, vividly red leather binding.
“Anna Karenina…”
Bingo.
I murmured the famous opening line without thinking.
“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way……”
One of my all-time favorites—finding it here was a delight.
As I reached for it absentmindedly, a pale, slender finger—bloodless white—slipped through a gap from my lower left, touching the red spine a beat too late.
“Eh.”
Startled by the cool touch on my fingertip, I froze and peered around the shelf.
“……”
Bathed in slanting sunlight piercing the bookshelf gap, my gaze perfectly intertwined with a girl whose beauty rivaled this morning's first princess—not in the same vein, but equally otherworldly.
Her golden hair cascaded in soft waves to her waist, shimmering translucently against her porcelain-pale skin in the light. Shorter than me by a head, her petite frame boasted an improbably voluptuous bust that briefly caught my eye.
Yanking my gaze up in panic, I met eyes the same mysterious, icy purple as the Emperor's and Victoria's.
My heart plummeted.
Purple eyes—the absolute symbol of power held only by the Arzenheim imperial family in this vast Empire.
I yanked my hand back from the book, stumbled away, and bowed hastily.
“My apologies. I didn't realize you were imperial family; forgive my rudeness……”
But the girl pressed a slim finger to her red lips—shh—and shook her head lightly to silence me.
She glanced around cautiously, as if checking for librarians or guards, then leaned her face closer through the gap. In a voice light as a feather, soft and silky, she whispered.
“You're Prince Ian of the Sterling Kingdom, aren't you?”
A faint, utterly charming blush tinted her pale cheeks.
“I'm Chloe von Arzenheim. The Empire's second imperial princess. Pleased to meet you.”