76 - Heroine
Mariana’s breath grew shallow. Her eyes remained fixed on the silvery-haired figure ahead, unmoving despite the flow of people weaving between them. The world dulled into background noise—voices blurred, footsteps indistinct—until only that single presence remained.
The Heroine. Archduchess Sadia.
“… no, no, no…” Mariana muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening slightly at her sides.
Her mind began racing. Not in scattered panic—but in sharp, frantic calculation. Plot. Timeline. Events.
She had read the novel more than once. Not obsessively, but enough to remember the important parts. The turning points. The character introductions. The moments that shaped everything.
And this... this is wrong... completely wrong...
Mariana swallowed hard, forcing herself to think.
Okay, think... think properly...
Sadia. Archduchess Sadia. The neglected daughter of a powerful house. Ignored by her parents. Overlooked by servants. Dismissed by nobles beneath her rank who sensed her lack of backing. A wallflower. Invisible despite her status.
And yet, kind. Unfailingly kind. Forgiving in ways that bordered on impossible. That was why she was called a Saintess. Not because of her power alone—but because of her heart.
Mariana’s brows furrowed slightly.
She shouldn’t be here like this… no.
That wasn’t right either. Sadia could be here. Luxor wasn’t off-limits to her. But, Zafiel. That was the problem. Their meeting. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen now.
Mariana’s thoughts spiraled deeper.
They were meant to meet months later. At his 22nd birthday. A grand imperial celebration. That was when it happened. That was when everything began.
She remembered it clearly.
The way the novel described it, Zafiel, surrounded by nobles, indifferent as always. Detached. Uninterested. Until, he saw her. Sadia.
Standing quietly at the edge of the hall Different. Too different. No ambition. No pretense. No desperation to gain his favor. And that was what caught his attention.
Mariana’s chest tightened.
Love at first sight.
The phrase echoed in her mind. But it hadn’t been gentle. It hadn’t been soft. It had been immediate. Intense. Obsessive. Zafiel became fixated on her existence. Curious at first. Then intrigued. Then, consumed.
Mariana pressed her lips together.
That’s how it’s supposed to go. Slow. Gradual. Inevitable. But this? This wasn’t gradual. This was early. Too early. Her thoughts split. Arguing. Clashing.
Maybe it’s just a coincidence...? No, that’s not possible... It could just be someone with similar hair... wait, in a novel world where unique traits matter?? Are you serious? Okay, but even if it is Sadia, Zafiel hasn’t noticed her... hasn’t he...?
Mariana’s gaze flickered slightly. Slowly, carefully, she turned her head. Toward him.
Zafiel walked beside her, posture relaxed, expression calm. Unbothered. Unchanged. If he had noticed, he didn’t show it.
Mariana hesitated. Then, cautiously, “Your Imperial Highness…”
He glanced at her. “Yes?”
Her voice lowered slightly. “Did you… see that woman?”
Zafiel followed her line of sight briefly. A passing glance, nothing more. Then he looked back at her. “No.” Simple. Uninterested. Unbothered.
Mariana blinked. "You... didn’t?”
“No,” he repeated calmly. “Should I have?”
Her lips parted slightly. “No… I just thought…” She trailed off.
Zafiel tilted his head slightly, observing her. “Thought?”
Mariana forced a small shake of her head. “I-It’s nothing...”
Silence followed. But inside, her thoughts were anything but quiet.
He didn’t see her…?
That didn’t make sense. This was Zafiel. The male lead. The one who was supposed to fall first. Hard. Immediately. And yet, nothing. No reaction. No shift. No interest.
Mariana’s mind struggled to reconcile it.
Did I remember wrong…?
“No...” She answered herself instantly.
Then why—
Her thoughts halted. Because something else crept in. Something colder. More unsettling.
What if…
She swallowed.
What if the story… is already changing?
Her fingers curled slightly. Because if that was true... then everything she knew, everything she relied on was no longer guaranteed.
Beside her, Zafiel’s lips curved faintly. Barely noticeable. A subtle, private smile.
Good.
He didn’t look at her. Didn’t let it show. But inwardly, he was watching. Observing. Waiting.
You’re starting to notice it, that something is wrong. That the world you know… is no longer the same.
His gaze flickered briefly toward where the silvery-haired woman had disappeared. Then back to Mariana.
But not yet. You’re not ready yet.
His smile deepened—just slightly.
I’ll guide you there.
They continued walking. The streets gradually gave way to quieter paths. The noise of the market softened. Buildings became less crowded. More refined. Until they arrived at the library.
Mariana blinked, momentarily pulled from her spiraling thoughts. “Here...?”
Zafiel nodded. “You liked it before.”
Her chest eased—just a little. Because this place felt safe. Familiar. The scent of aged paper. The quiet atmosphere. The endless rows of books waiting to be explored. Before she could stop herself, she smiled genuinely. And stepped inside.
“Ah, you’re back!” A familiar voice rang out. The elderly woman from before—Cile—approached them with surprising energy. “I was wondering if you’d return!” She beamed.
Mariana brightened slightly. “We couldn’t stay away.”
Cile laughed. “Flatterer!”
Zafiel remained slightly behind, silent. Watching. As Mariana moved freely. Naturally. She drifted toward the shelves, her earlier tension fading as curiosity took over.
Her fingers traced the spines of books, pausing. Selecting. Skimming. Her eyes lit up at certain titles. Lingering on others.
Zafiel observed everything. Every pause. Every glance. Every moment of interest. History. Mythology. Magic theory. Folklore. He noted them all carefully. Precisely. As if committing them to memory.
Meanwhile, Mariana had forgotten. Completely forgotten about Sadia. About the plot. About everything. Because right now, she was simply herself. A girl who loved stories. Who found comfort in pages. Who lost herself in knowledge.
“… this one…” She murmured softly, pulling out a book.
Then another. And another. Behind her, Zafiel turned slightly. “Wrap everything she looked at.”
Cile blinked, then smiled. Slow. Knowing. “My, my…” she hummed. “A generous patron.”
Zafiel said nothing. But his gaze remained on Mariana.
“… Or perhaps something more?”
Still, no answer. Only silence. And certainty.
Cile chuckled softly but complied. She didn’t know who they were. Didn’t know their status. But she understood enough. Attention like that wasn’t casual.
Time passed unnoticed. Mariana sat by a window, completely absorbed in a book. The world outside ceased to exist.
Zafiel watched her for a moment longer. Then quietly, he turned and stepped out. The streets welcomed him again. This time, alone. He moved with purpose, stopping briefly at a nearby stall. Sweets. Carefully selected.
Not random. Never random. Because he remembered. Always remembered. “These.” He said simply.
The vendor nodded, wrapping them quickly.
Zafiel took the package. And as he walked back, afaint thought crossed his mind.
She really is…
His gaze softened, just slightly.
Lovely.
—
Inside the library, Cile approached Mariana. Slow steps. Amused expression. “Well now…” She began lightly.
Mariana looked up, blinking. “Hm?”
Cile leaned slightly closer. “That young man with you…”
Mariana froze. “… yes?”
Cile’s smile widened. “He’s quite attentive, isn’t he?”
Mariana blinked. “… a-attentive?”
Cile chuckled. “Buying every book you so much as glance at? Watching you like you might disappear if he blinks?” She tilted her head. “That’s not something a casual companion does.”
Mariana’s face flushed instantly. “N-No, it’s not like that...!”
“Oh?” Cile’s eyes sparkled. “Then what is it like?”
“I... We... He’s just...!” Mariana stumbled over her words, flustered.
“Not your lover?” Cile teased.
“O-Of course not...!” Mariana blurted out, her voice a little too quick, a little too loud.
Cile laughed warmly. “Alright, alright. No need to panic.”
Mariana turned away slightly, her face still red. “I-It’s really not like that…”
Outside the door, Zafiel stood still. Silent. Listening.
And when he heard her response, a soft smile curved his lips. Not offended. Not displeased. Just… amused. Satisfied.
Not yet.
His gaze lowered slightly.
But you didn’t reject the possibility either.
He stepped forward, opening the door.
Slowly is fine.
His eyes found her instantly.
As long as you stay.
And somehow, that quiet certainty felt far more dangerous than anything else.