“Huh...” The prince froze solid, looking unusually comical.
I watched him as I declared, “I don’t need it anymore.” After one last glance, I left the book on the table, bowed, and saw myself out. No one called out to stop me.
I was pretty spaced out after arriving back home. My father and brother visited when they returned, but my mood remained dour and I refused dinner, holing up in my room. I, the Bibliophile Princess, didn’t feel like reading any books.
Enough, it’s about time you admit it, I thought, sighing to myself as I sat alone in my darkened room. Why was it such a surprise, such a shock for me to see Prince Christopher reveal his true self in front of another woman? Why was I in such despair—to the point of tears, to the point of falling to my knees—at realizing that his present hadn’t been anything special? Why was it that my chest felt so tight, so unbelievably painful? Why was it that with each breath, my heart seemed to ache?
“...That must be it.”
It was because I loved Prince Christopher.
I had no idea when these feelings had started. But it was in the way the sun shone off his golden hair, the way his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day, the way his voice sounded so dignified as he dispensed orders, the way he held himself so proudly as royalty. And how, sometimes, there was an iciness about him when he demonstrated his strict decisiveness. My chest panged with the memories.
For the first time I understood what a foolish person I’d been. I put on a clever farce, feigned indifference in the face of a possible annulment, but in truth, I wasn’t even aware of my own feelings. I was just a big-headed Bibliophile Princess. No matter how many books I read or how much I studied the knowledge of our predecessors, none of it had proved useful in this situation. I’d realized my feelings too late. My own heart didn’t even work the way I wanted.
A laugh slipped out of me, mocking my own misery.
I had no idea what to do from now on. My books offered me no answers. The only thing I did understand was that the person the prince would now invite on sunny days to read to him beneath the shade of the trees, and on rainy days to enjoy tea time alone with, wouldn’t be me.
I watched vacantly as the night wore on, unable to summon the will to do anything.