The Bun-Haired Bookworm and the Fanfic Protagonist
“Young miss? Why are you eating so little today?”
It was early morning, the night air only just beginning to lift. With an hour still remaining before the grand ducal library opened its doors, Ariel sat at breakfast.
At her maid’s question she answered with an apologetic look.
“I completely forgot to mention it ahead of time. From now on, just prepare a simple breakfast for me. Sorry.”
“What? Why?”
“Heh. Because I don’t have to stuff myself until I’m bursting anymore.”
“Really?”
“Actually, I ran into an Academy classmate at the library yesterday.”
“Oh my goodness! Truly?”
The maid, who looked about Ariel’s age, widened her eyes and plopped herself down across from her at once. Those bright, sparkling eyes were already alight with the hunger for a juicy story.
An Academy classmate met in the grand ducal library could only mean one of the final candidates in the betrothal tournament.
“Who? Who did you meet?”
“Elden Raphelion.”
“E-Excuse me?!”
The maid recoiled as if she had seen a ghost. It was only natural. Unlike the other three candidates, whose public reputations were at least passable, Elden Raphelion’s standing scraped the absolute bottom. While the others hid their malice and reeked of rot behind closed doors, Elden had lived his life flaunting his villainy for all to see. Among the maids who endlessly debated the eventual winner of the betrothal tournament, Elden Raphelion’s name had never once been uttered.
The maid asked worriedly,
“A-Are you all right? Don’t tell me… you suffered some awful ordeal and the shock has made you lose your appetite…”
“No, no. It’s the opposite—thanks to Elden, I don’t have to gorge myself at breakfast anymore.”
“Pardon?”
“Elden asked me to have lunch with him. And not just anywhere—in the Great Hall of the grand ducal castle!”
“What? Why?”
“He said he eats alone anyway, so we might as well eat together. And he asked me to recommend pure literature, so I gave him a whole mountain of titles!”
The maid dug a finger in her ear. It was an unbelievable story for an entirely different reason. Even if his chances of victory converged on zero, he was still competing in the betrothal tournament for the hand of the Third Grand Duchess. Sharing a private meal—alone with another woman, no less, in a crowded place like the Great Hall—defied common sense. One misstep could spark nasty rumors and draw the Third Grand Duchess’s frown.
“Mmm… I really think it would be better if you didn’t dine with Young Master Elden…”
“Why? Because then you’d have to stuff me full at breakfast again?”
“N-No, not that. I’m worried that dining with a finalist might earn you an undeserved scolding from Her Highness the Third Grand Duchess.”
The maid’s sincere concern brought a soft smile to Ariel’s lips.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Pardon?”
“Elden withdrew. That’s why he asked me to eat with him.”
“Wha—at?!”
This morning the maid was in danger of bursting from sheer astonishment.
“Ah, it’s almost time for the library to open. I’ll be back!”
Ariel sprang up, gathered the books she had borrowed, and hurried out of her quarters. Her steps were especially light and quick today—partly because there was no heavy fullness from overeating, and partly because, for the first time in her life, she would get to hear someone’s impressions of a novel she herself had recommended.
She was excited. What would he say?
She was anxious. What would he say?
That mixture of anticipation and restlessness embroidered the damp northern roads beneath her feet.
Tap-tap-tap.
Ariel’s golden bun hair began to flutter in the fresh morning breeze.
Arriving five minutes before opening, Ariel stood at the head of the line, entered the library first, returned the books she had finished overnight, then gathered fresh ones and settled into a seat—the very same seat where she and Elden had arranged to meet. She had moved even faster today, worried someone else might claim it.
“Hmm-hmm~”
Humming softly under her breath, toes of her crossed legs tapping in rhythm, Ariel began to read. Yet every time she turned a page her gaze kept drifting toward the entrance.
A glance.
A soft rustle.
A glance.
A soft rustle.
A glance.
It was hard to concentrate. She had barely slept for anticipation; at this rate she would never meet her planned reading quota. She slapped her own cheeks to snap herself out of it.
Smack-smack.
They had set no exact time. He had said they would eat lunch together, so he would come before then. With that thought she forced her attention back into the story—and promptly sank so deep into the thrilling tale that she only raised her head much later.
“….”
The once deathly quiet reading room now bustled with the restless energy of midday. Absorbed in her novel, she had only just realized lunch hour had arrived and people were pouring in.
Still no Elden.
Had he forgotten? Or had something come up?
Hngh… He said he would definitely come…
The gentle swell her breakfast had given her stomach had already flattened. Because she had not filled herself to bursting, the emptiness returned quickly. Rubbing her hollow belly, Ariel sighed. Fortunately, just before she left her rooms, her maid had insisted on preparing for any contingency and stuffed two soft rolls into her pocket. Far from enough for a real meal, but enough to take the edge off the hunger.
Something must have happened…
With Elden still nowhere in sight even at mealtime, Ariel slipped a hand into her pocket. After a lightning-fast check of her surroundings, she covered her mouth with her free hand and popped one small roll inside, then began chewing with the tiniest possible jaw movements. Simple snacks were allowed in the reading room, but eating alone still felt embarrassingly conspicuous.
Munch, munch.
As always, the rolls Miya made were delicious. No one had seen her, right?
Satisfied that her stealth snack had been both swift and flawless, Ariel cast a proud glance around the room—proof that the skills she had honed since Academy days had not yet rusted away.
And that glance caught black hair streaming toward her.
“Ah! El—!”
Clap!
She clamped both hands over her mouth in a panic. She had nearly spat the bread out. She had nearly broken into a full, beaming smile. She had nearly revealed just how desperately she had been waiting. Knowing that might burden him, she hastily chewed, swallowed, then lowered the hands that had covered her mouth and gave a small, quiet wave of greeting.
“Y-You’re here?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m a bit late—I wanted to finish the one you recommended yesterday.”
Here it came at last. The novel he had promised to finish was The Grand Great Knight Order—one of her personal favorites among the recommendations.
“…How was it?”
Ariel asked carefully, shoulders shrinking. Her heart pounded. More than gaining a lunch companion, what truly delighted her was gaining a reading companion with whom she could share impressions. So she waited with the face of a rain-soaked puppy—and when his evaluation remained as glowing as yesterday’s, she finally exhaled in relief.
“It was seriously fun. Honestly, the reason I’m late is because I re-read the last volume carefully.”
“R-Really?!”
Clap!
This was a place that demanded silence; raised voices were a nuisance. Ariel had to clap her hands over her mouth again. Today her instincts were especially hard to rein in.
Elden smiled and shared the scene that had moved him most.
“Especially the ending, when Lancelot tells the Grand Duchess, ‘I shall go on ahead. Please take your time,’ and charges alone into the enemy lines—I almost teared up. Pure romance, you know?”
Ariel nodded so vigorously it was practically agreement made flesh, then deliberately lowered her voice to pour out her joy.
“Ah! I remember that scene. I cried rivers of tears and snot over it. I just knew you’d love it too.”
“Any other novels like that?”
“Of course, of course! Want more recommendations?”
If joy could take physical form, it would look like Ariel’s face. A radiant smile bloomed like a fresh flower bud as fireworks exploded inside her head and she began mentally listing titles—until she noticed the woman standing beside Elden.
“Huh?”
A woman stood diagonally behind Elden’s right shoulder. Dressed in full knight’s uniform, she occupied the same relative position Ariel herself had once held in Academy days. Black leather epaulets capped her shoulders; the crest of a noble house’s escort knight was embroidered at the center of her chest. Long brown leather boots and a brown hooded cloak that fell to her waist gave her an overall shadowy palette. Deep black eyes like chips of onyx, set against striking violet hair, left a vivid impression. She was clearly an escort knight, yet she had not accompanied him yesterday, so Ariel asked,
“Um… who is…?”
“Ah, my escort knight.”
“Escort knight?”
“Yeah. Rachel? Say hello. This is Young Lady Ariel of House Elrond.”
At Elden’s introduction, Rachel stepped forward and bowed.
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Rachel.”
“Ah… I’m glad to meet you too. But…?”
Every personal escort knight Ariel had ever met had been a man—burly, bearded, or reeking of sweat. Female knights existed, but they had been every bit as hard and unyielding; some even shaved their heads or drew on false beards to pass as men. A personal escort knight like Rachel was a first for her. At the same time, a certain character from a novel rose unbidden in the bookworm’s mind.
The protagonist of The Path Walked by the Purple Knightess was named Rachel. In modern terms, she was the heroine of a fanfic. Appearance, name—everything matched. It had been a wildly popular chronicle among female readers, and Ariel had read it with deep emotion. Meeting Rachel felt no different from meeting a celebrity.
“C-Could it be… are you the Purple Knight, Rachel?”
At Ariel’s question, Elden answered with mild surprise.
“Hm? You two already know each other?”
“No. First meeting—wait, is it? No. It’s a first meeting ‘in real life.’”
Rachel regarded the beaming Ariel with open bewilderment.
“You… know me? I believe this is the first time we have met.”
“Of course I know you! I know you so well!”
“Pardon?”
“The Purple Knight, Rachel! That name alone is a byword for valor—a master of magic swordsmanship, a prodigy who can wield any weapon, the hope and hero of women who rose to the absolute pinnacle with her slender frame against a narrow-minded world! That’s you, right? I’ve read the novel about Dame Rachel three whole times, you know~”
“…Excuse me? You’re saying… such a book exists?”
“Absolutely! Of course it only came out recently, and because it’s basically a forbidden panegyric to female knights it’s hard to find on the open market.”
“….”
Rachel’s face went blank at the news that her own life story had been published without her knowledge. And for the newly minted underdog Elden Raphelion, this was precious intelligence indeed. An otherworldly fanfic starring his own escort knight. Irresistible source material.
“Ariel, is that book here by any chance?”
“Yep! In the pure literature section. Want to read it?”
“Sure.”
“Then I’ll go get it—!”
In a whirl of skirts Ariel shot off toward the pure literature shelves. There was no time to stop her; Rachel could only stare after her retreating back.
“Ah—no. Why would you even…”
And then.
A sharp glint.
Rachel found herself looking forward with great anticipation to the training session scheduled for that afternoon.