The Lost One Visited at Night

Ever since I dispatched those two troublesome volumes, my academy life had settled into a rare period of tranquility.

The library, once bustling, now stood eerily empty. The noble couples who had frequented it, ostensibly to study but truly to flirt, seemed to have vanished overnight.

Though the reason eluded me, this newfound solitude felt nothing short of paradise.

As the night deepened, I was ensconced alone in my private corner on the third floor of the library, surrounded by towering bookshelves.

Outside the window, a dark crimson moon hung suspended among the treetops, yet I had chosen not to light any lamps.

In my hands, the ‘Book of the Nameless’ emitted a faint, ethereal luminescence, like liquid obsidian.

To enhance my vision and ensure my comfort, I had woven a thin layer of chaotic magic around my immediate vicinity.

The black mists, seemingly alive, flowed languidly around me, forming a ‘cocoon’ that muffled external sounds and obscured sight. It was profoundly comfortable.

Within this utterly private sanctuary, I could finally shed the burdensome armor of the villainess young lady, if only for a moment.

I kicked off the high heels that invariably chafed my feet, allowing my silk-stockinged feet to press directly against the cool, inviting carpet.

Two buttons at my collar were undone for a breath of air, and I donned the gold-rimmed glasses I had grown accustomed to even before my transmigration.

At this moment, I likely resembled nothing so much as a ‘himono-onna,’ utterly devoid of any refined image.

I was utterly absorbed in the book’s recondite description of ‘reverse magic circuit construction,’ my fingertips unconsciously tracing patterns in the air.

……

Yet, this profound tranquility was not destined to last.

A series of heavy, hurried footsteps abruptly pierced through the layered black mist, violating the sanctity of my domain.

A flicker of displeasure crossed my brow. I made no move to close the book or don my shoes, simply maintaining my seated position on the floor.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze, my eyes, magnified by the gold-rimmed lenses, fixed coldly upon the intruder.

Alexis von Lumiere.

His Royal Highness, the First Prince.

His current state, I observed, was truly abysmal.

His usually impeccably styled golden hair was disheveled, and a fine sheen of cold sweat beaded across his forehead.

His face was pallid, his chest rising and falling with frantic intensity, as though he were under immense physical duress.

One hand gripped the adjacent bookshelf with desperate force, his knuckles stark white. It seemed to be the only way he could prevent himself from collapsing.

…What has befallen him?

Could he possibly be suffering from heatstroke in this weather?

I regarded him with a touch of perplexity.

I had utterly forgotten that the chaotic magical pressure I had inadvertently unleashed for my reading comfort was, to any ordinary mage of this world, akin to being submerged five thousand meters beneath the ocean’s crushing surface.

“…I found you.”

Alexis spoke with immense difficulty, his voice a raw, grating rasp.

His deep blue eyes, unwavering, were locked onto mine.

There was no hint of romantic allure in his gaze; only a tremor of primal fear in the face of the unknown, coupled with an almost self-destructive obsession to unearth the truth.

What exactly did he perceive?

In his mind’s eye, the duke’s daughter, usually so unapproachable, was now languidly ensconced within a suffocating abyss of darkness.

She was shoeless, her attire disheveled, and she wore spectacles.

Her attitude towards him, moreover, was one of utter disregard.

It was as if he, the kingdom’s Crown Prince, held less significance in her eyes than the glowing, tattered book clutched in her hands.

“Your Royal Highness?”

I nudged my glasses up the bridge of my nose, my tone laced with the distinct impatience of one who had been disturbed.

“It’s rather late. Instead of resting in your chambers, what brings you scurrying here? Are you sleepwalking?”

“Lilliana…”

Alexis gritted his teeth, attempting to take a step forward.

However, the invisible magical pressure made his legs feel as though they were filled with lead.

“What… what are you doing?”

“Reading.”

My reply was succinct.

“Reading?”

Alexis seemed utterly dumbfounded by the absurdity of my answer, letting out a somewhat uncontrolled growl.

“In this… this ominous aura that feels as though it could devour everything? You call this reading?!”

He stumbled forward, surging towards me, as if compelled to reach out and confirm my presence, or perhaps to ascertain if this entire scene was merely an illusion.

“Stop joking! This power…”

However, just as his hand was about to extend towards me.

I frowned imperceptibly.

A potent wave of male sweat, mingled with the elevated body heat born of his agitation, assailed my senses.

Accustomed as I was to the frigid, deathly essence of chaos, this sudden heat was akin to a scorching furnace, causing me visceral discomfort.

I did not flinch. Instead, I simply regarded him with my crimson eyes, quietly, and with a faint trace of disdain.

“Your Royal Highness, you are overstepping your bounds.”

My voice was soft, yet it struck him with the chilling impact of a bucket of ice water.

Alexis’s movement froze mid-air, arrested instantly.

It wasn’t due to my power, but rather the… contained within my gaze.

The utter coldness, as if I were looking upon something utterly repulsive.

That particular look pierced him deeply.

“Ugh…”

He let out a choked grunt. The sheer mental pressure, compounded by the stinging shame of rejection, caused his legs to buckle. He actually sank to one knee before me, gasping for air.

I cast a swift glance at the beads of sweat dripping onto the carpet, then subtly drew my feet back, betraying no emotion.

Truly filthy… Anna will have to clean this carpet tomorrow.

It was at this precise moment.

“Oh dear, it appears our library has been graced by the presence of a rather impolite… lost lamb.”

A woman’s voice, both magnetic and infused with an icy chill, drifted from the encompassing shadows.

Elinor von Windermere.

She did not materialize abruptly, as one might expect. Instead, she emerged gradually from the deep shadows cast by the bookshelves, her movements unhurried.

She carried no lamp, and her entire being seemed almost to coalesce with the surrounding darkness.

Without a single glance at the prince still kneeling on the floor, she walked directly to stand behind me.

“…Lilliana.”

She uttered my name, her voice tinged with a mild reproof, yet imbued with an intimacy that only we two could truly comprehend.

“While this may be the restricted section, one should still pay attention to their appearance, Lilliana. After all…”

A pair of cool, slender hands gently settled upon my shoulders.

An involuntary shiver coursed through me.

Elinor paid no mind to the prince still present beside us.

Her fingers glided from my shoulders to my lapel, performing the action with an unnerving naturalness and practiced ease. She began to fasten the two undone buttons, one by one, back into place.

Her fingertips were quite cool, occasionally brushing against the delicate skin of my collarbone.

The sensation was subtly unsettling.

It lacked the stiff awkwardness of Beatrix’s nervous touches, and none of the cautious reverence of Ella’s adoring ones.

Elinor’s touch, instead, conveyed an undeniable sense of… inherent control.

It was akin to a stern tutor adjusting a student’s attire, or a meticulous collector polishing dust from a cherished artifact.

“…If extraneous individuals were to witness this, it would prove quite troublesome for me.”

As she secured the final button, her fingertips lingered for a fleeting half-second, almost imperceptibly, at my throat before she leaned in and whispered softly into my ear.

That veiled statement was directed both at me and at Alexis, who remained kneeling on the floor.

It was an unspoken, potent declaration of dominion.

…You do not comprehend her.

You cannot even stand upright within this domain.

But I can.

I can touch her, I can attend to her, I can stand behind her.

Alexis lifted his head, his gaze fixed on the unfolding tableau.

He observed the enigmatic librarian standing behind Lilliana, her hands resting on her shoulders in a pose that suggested both protection and… possession.

Lilliana, despite the trace of annoyance on her face, made no move to push her away.

The chilling, unspoken understanding that existed between the two women formed an invisible barrier, completely isolating him.

“…Madam Windermere.”

Alexis gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet with considerable effort.

“Are you… shielding her?”

“Shielding?”

Elinor finally turned her head, bestowing upon him a look. Within her amethyst-like eyes, a faint trace of mockery shimmered.

“Your Royal Highness, the restricted section is exclusively accessible to those who possess the requisite reading qualifications. And you…”

She left the sentence unfinished, merely letting her gaze sweep over the spot where he had knelt moments before.

The implication was undeniably clear.

Alexis’s face instantly drained of all color, turning ashen.

Shame.

A shame unlike any he had ever known.

He cast a deep, lingering glance at the young woman still seated on the floor, impassively adjusting her glasses, and at the shadowy figure of the woman standing behind her.

“…If that is the administrator’s judgment, then I have nothing further to say.”

He turned, his retreating figure slightly unsteady, yet he strove to maintain a semblance of his remaining dignity.

“But I will continue to observe. Lilliana… I will uncover precisely what it is you are truly looking at.”

Having delivered his declaration, he vanished into the shadows of the staircase.

Until I was certain he had completely departed, Elinor finally released her hold on my shoulders.

“What a troublesome guest.”

She remarked blandly, then lowered her gaze to me.

“However, Lilliana, I recall telling you… it is best not to release this black mist when outsiders are present.”

“I was engrossed in the book and forgot.”

I closed the book, attempting to put on my shoes with a guilty conscience.

“Don’t move.”

Elinor suddenly pressed down on my shoulder.

“Your shoes… are backwards.”

She crouched down, and before I could react, she reached out and grasped my small foot, which had not yet slipped into the shoe.

Her hand was truly cold.

In this silent space occupied only by the two of us, she did nothing untoward.

She simply, very earnestly and carefully, straightened my shoes, then watched as I slipped my feet inside.

But such a simple action, owing to her lowered brows and the momentary lingering of her fingertips on my ankle, became…

Somewhat ambiguous.

“There.”

She stood up, her face returning to that standard, detached smile.

“It seems tonight’s reading session cannot proceed. Go back and rest early, my dear… accomplice.”

I looked at her, and my heart inexplicably skipped a beat.

I had a distinct feeling…

That instant she grasped my ankle was not merely to help me put on my shoes.

It was more like she was… measuring something.

Measuring what?

Surely not…

Measuring how long a chain would be needed to capture me completely… right?