Chapter 32
Noxia also went to her seat and sat down. Before heading up to the archives to guide users, she had a few things to take care of in the office.
Pretending to look over some documents, Noxia quietly unfolded the note. Her guess had been correct.
<To Miss Noxia Dekan.
I visited the library to borrow the book you recommended, but I heard that you were out on sick leave. I hope it’s nothing serious. Wishing you a speedy recovery.
I plan to visit again on Monday afternoon to borrow the book I wasn’t able to check out on Friday. I happened to have a class canceled that day, so I should have plenty of time.
I hope I can receive your help then. To be honest, I can’t quite remember the exact title of the book, so please understand that it will be difficult to borrow it without your assistance.
Then I’ll see you on Monday.
Wishing for your well-being always,
Elenon Hermeon.>
Noxia folded the note again. She understood why Liana had advised her not to show it to anyone else—especially Harold, who was always eager to brag about connections with high-ranking people.
If rumors spread that not only am I a marquis’s daughter but also acquainted with the prince of this country, everyone would lose their minds. I’d be the only one exhausted by it.
Strictly speaking, she and Prince Elenon couldn’t even be called close.
They had met exactly three times so far, and of those, they had sat across from each other in a teahouse and had a proper conversation like ordinary acquaintances only once.
And yet Elenon Hermeon had come looking for her and left a note like this. Most of the content—written in neat handwriting with well-chosen expressions—was a lie.
I recommended a book to him? When did that ever happen?
It certainly had not. Noxia wondered why Prince Elenon would go so far as to make up lies just to arrange a meeting with her.
…Well, I’ll find out this afternoon.
She decided to simply ask him directly when they met, without beating around the bush. Even if the other person was a high and mighty prince, it didn’t matter.
Whether it was a prince, a marquis’s daughter, or the mysterious young lord of the north, Noxia was tired of being tangled up with lofty people who kept throwing puzzling stress into her life.
If Prince Elenon joined Jade Lannon and Karnen Holvie in tormenting her with their inconsistent behavior, she might end up writing a resignation letter and running back to her hometown just two weeks after starting work.
I’ll deal with that when it happens. For now, I need to put out the fire in front of me.
With a swallowed sigh, Noxia carefully tucked the prince’s note into her pocket. Then she focused on the backlog of work from Friday. She actually felt more at ease doing that.
As a junior librarian, her second Monday morning passed even more frantically than the first. Then lunchtime went by, and the afternoon arrived.
Prince Elenon came as promised.
* * *
Since they had coincidentally run into each other in front of the student cafeteria at lunchtime on Monday, Elenon hadn’t seen Noxia again. Whether he truly hadn’t seen her—or had avoided seeing her—was unclear.
If I really wanted to see her face, I could just go to the library myself…
Elenon wondered whether he genuinely wanted to go that far to see her again. The fact that he had been agonizing over such a trivial matter for so long puzzled him.
What is she to me, anyway?
She was just a commoner girl he’d gotten tangled up with by chance. She had witnessed his disgrace, and he had bothered her to keep her quiet. If anything, they were closer to having a negative connection than a positive one.
So why did thinking of her keep making him feel this way? A feeling that wasn’t unpleasant at all yet wasn’t entirely pleasant either—uncomfortable rather than comfortable, and yet strangely addictive, making her pop into his mind again and again.
Her consistently transparent expression in front of him, the sincerity in her smile, the way a single dimple appeared on one cheek when she laughed, her green eyes like a midsummer forest…
What the hell is wrong with me.
A strange wave of thoughts bubbled up in his head. Without realizing it, he smacked his forehead with his palm. The pain stopped his wandering thoughts, but the spot he hit was now throbbing.
It was Friday lunchtime. Feeling too drained from being surrounded by people, Elenon had escaped by making up an excuse about meeting a certain professor.
He slipped into a quiet campus pathway and sat on a bench behind a large statue, rubbing his sore forehead while listening to insects chirping in the nearby grass.
Then he heard footsteps and voices from the opposite side of the statue. A sharp, acrid smell stabbed his nose. Elenon frowned.
Cigarettes?
There were designated smoking rooms throughout campus, and smoking elsewhere was strictly forbidden. Elenon felt deep irritation toward the group across from the statue who acted as if they had forgotten that obvious fact.
Should I go say something? Tell them to get lost and head to the smoking room?
Half out of mischief, half out of a genuine desire to teach them some discipline, he debated.
If people sneaking cigarettes were caught by a prince of the realm, the look on their faces would be entertaining.
Had it been someone else, they might get angry and complain that he was meddling—but their opponent was a prince. They would have to bow deeply and thank him for the guidance.
Elenon imagined crushing them with his status and birthright and let out a shadowy smile. Then he shook his head, stood, and quietly brushed himself off.
Let’s not waste energy on pointless things. Time to go.
He began to move stealthily, even remembering to pinch his nose shut. He couldn’t stand the smell of tobacco.
Then the smokers’ conversation caught his ear, and without meaning to, he paused and listened.
“Hey, I heard a new junior librarian started at the central library? Anyone seen her?”
“I saw her the day before yesterday. She was by the search desk on the second floor.”
“You saw her too? Isn’t she pretty? Right? I told you she was pretty. How was she in person?”
“Well, she was kind of cute, I guess. But not really my type. She looked too clueless, I guess?”
“Like, an innocent-looking face, you mean? I actually like that. Better than someone too aggressive.”
“Idiot, just because her face looks gentle doesn’t mean her personality is. You never know until you peel back the skin. Who knows, maybe underneath she’s a total scrapper.”
“Anyway, why’s she even working as a librarian at that age? She looked about our age. Shouldn’t she be in college?”
“Probably a commoner. A poor commoner. Or if she’s a noble, her family’s broke. She probably needed money for living expenses, so she started working instead of going to college.”
“Hm, that’s sad. Should I go comfort her?”
“Haha, you crazy bastard.”
“Hey, who knows? Girls like her might get all soft and fall for guys like us if we treat them well. And if she had a rich guy, that’d be good for her too, right? If she’s poor enough to have to work at that age, it’s not like she can afford to be picky.”
“So what, you’re gonna be her boyfriend or something?”
“Boyfriend? Please. A girl like that is perfect to carry around like an accessory. Pretty face, dependably clingy. She’d probably do whatever you tell her.”
“Is that so?”
Vulgar laughter echoed. Elenon had forgotten to cover his nose; his hands were clenched into fists, and he stood frozen in place.
The moment he veered toward them was purely impulsive. He hadn’t thought it through. It was instinct, not reason.
Tall brush blocked the prince’s side from theirs, but Elenon didn’t care. He marched forward, pushing through the foliage until he stepped out right in front of them.
“Hello.”
“Uwaah?!”
“Holy shit, you scared me!”
The male students flinched and panicked. One even dropped his cigarette. It was reasonable—they had thought they were alone, only for a stranger to appear so suddenly.
But seeing him more clearly deepened their confusion. Even if they didn’t know him personally, it was impossible not to recognize the prince whose face sometimes appeared in the newspaper.
A few students, feeling guilty, hid their cigarettes pointlessly behind their backs. Some stared at him like he was a rare zoo animal. Others quickly recovered and put on greasy social smiles.
They knew smoking here broke school rules, so they had been alarmed at first—but once they calmed down, the tension eased.
Like he’d report us.
It’s the famously gentle Prince Elenon, after all.
In social circles and around the academy, Prince Elenon was known as generous and kind to everyone, never angry, always smiling, with no strong opinions—soft and pliable.
A handsome prince with a gentle temperament, treated like a royal mascot. But peel away the shiny exterior and there was nothing inside—just a prettily decorated doll.
His sister had solidified her presence as the next monarch, and his brother was a famous artist and a brilliant socialite—but the second prince was different.
He was like a single flower giving off a faint fragrance. Pleasant to look at, needing careful handling, but essentially nothing more than a plant.
The six or so boys caught smoking in a prohibited area saw the prince that way too. As long as they bowed and acted respectful, getting caught probably wouldn’t lead to any real consequences.
We greet the second prince of the realm.”
The boy who seemed to be their leader bowed politely. As a gesture of respect, he dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe. Elenon’s eyes narrowed.
The others followed suit, bowing. Some trembled nervously, unable to look up, while others peeked at the prince with blatant curiosity.
That guy’s the prince? That pretty little kid?
He’s… kind of…
They were around twenty years old—older in class year than the prince. Since the prince mostly spent time with people of his own year, they rarely had the chance to interact with him.
So this was their first time seeing him up close.
