Whisper of the Dark Bookstore

"It won't open?"

"That's strange. Why isn't this working?"

I pressed the seal against the door handle again and again, my face a picture of confusion. But the door, traitorous thing, showed no reaction whatsoever. With Eusilif's gaze prickling into my back like needles, sweat had begun to bead at the crown of my head.

"Hold on. There's a pattern above the handle that looks just like the seal."

Then Eusilif whispered at my ear, laying his hand over mine as I gripped the seal.

Yikes, that startled me.

Whispering in that perfect bass voice right against someone's ear should be against the rules, you clueless male lead.

I grumbled inwardly and shrank into myself. His body temperature ran remarkably hot, and a warmth rose through my hand where he held it almost instantly.

Struggling to calm my rattled nerves, I focused my attention on where he was about to press the seal. Sure enough, right above the door handle I could make out an engraving that closely resembled the seal's pattern.

"Haha, it's so dark I couldn't see straight. I've never been much of a night owl."

I cracked the joke even as I kept my hand layered with his, and together we pressed the seal against the pattern.

Ziing—

In that instant, a light so faint yet somehow chilling to the bone spilled from the engraving, and with a soft click, the door swung open.

Huh?

The moment I saw that light, a shiver of déjà vu flashed through my mind. But before I could turn the thought over, Eusilif reached out and opened the door to the bookstore.

Swoosh—

For something that looked rusted through, the door opened smoothly, without so much as a creak of protest.

I shook off my daze and stepped quickly through the open doorway.

This is no time for wandering thoughts. Focus on finding the swordsmanship manual. I have to find it with my own two hands and make Eusilif trust me!

I had just taken a vigorous, determined step forward when Eusilif suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, clamped his other hand over my mouth, and leapt clean off the ground.

"Shh. Someone's here."

He breathed it at my ear in that dangerous low voice of his. Naturally, I'd assumed the bookstore would be empty at this hour, so the words hit me like a slap.

Who on earth would be here at this time? And if they have access to this place, that means they're royalty...

But there was no time to wonder. I was being carried like a sack of luggage over Eusilif's shoulder, gliding soundlessly through the darkness of the bookstore.

As if the dark were no obstacle at all, he wove between hiding spots, covering the vast interior of the stacks with breathtaking speed.

He didn't so much as disturb his breathing, let alone make a footfall, so the unknown figure inside the bookstore seemed still unaware of our presence.

Hmm... I think I'm actually getting used to hanging off Eusilif's shoulder like this.

With that idle thought, I went slack and surrendered my whole body to him. The hard ridges of muscle flexing beneath my pressed skin made my flesh prickle for no good reason, but I clamped my mouth shut and bore it, terrified of letting even a wisp of sound escape.

Swoosh.

Before long, he set me down somewhere in the shadows of the bookstore with a soft thump. It was a light, effortless motion, as if my weight meant nothing at all.

But who could possibly be in here?

Crack!

As if to answer my curiosity, a vicious sound split the darkness.

"Aagh! B-brother, I was wrong... Please, just forgive me this once..."

"However great a fool you are, making such a pathetic blunder at this critical juncture?"

At the exchange that followed, my ears pricked up of their own accord and I swallowed hard.

No way. Princess Regita and Crown Prince Sota?

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, two figures came into view beyond the shelf we were hiding behind.

The one sprawled on the floor and scrambling to her knees was Regita, and the towering silhouette standing firm before her, looking down, could only be Sota.

Good heavens. What are those two doing here in the dead of night?

Barely had the thought crossed my mind before Regita's voice came, her excuses tumbling out to Sota.

"It's just—there was really nothing I could do at the time. That girl Arabella suddenly pulled out the contract right in front of the nobles and the reporters and caused such an uproar, so..."

"Arabella Miona. You're telling me, as your excuse, that you stood by and let a mere chit of a girl strip the imperial family of its property, because you couldn't stop a single child?"

I watched, quietly astonished, as Sota coldly bore down on Regita.

All this time I'd assumed Regita was the imperial family's pampered darling, its most protected treasure—yet the way he treated her was utterly merciless, as if she were some lowly subordinate.

Worse, far from talking back or playing the coquette, Regita groveled before him as if it were only natural, and the sight stirred a deep unease in me.

"It couldn't be helped! It's not as if I could strong-arm her the way I usually do, not with everyone watching—"

"Silence! If a shred of imperial dignity and grace had actually shown in you, how would that woman have ever dared to wave a contract in your face?"

"But, Brother—"

Crack!

The hand delivering the slap showed no hesitation whatsoever. It was a violence so brutal that even watching it made my whole body flinch.

"Hic... hic..."

Regita didn't fight back—she simply cradled her cheek and wept piteously. The look in Sota's eyes as he glared down at her crumpled form was bone-deep cold.

"You cannot even begin to imagine. What it is you've done."

"B-brother."

"Of all people, you had to bring those two together. Of all times—now! Those two, of all people!"

BANG! CRASH!

One of the shelves Sota had struck with his fist toppled backward. The books on it came tumbling down in an avalanche, raising a tremendous clamor and a cloud of dust.

Watching him, I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. Part of it was the chill of witnessing the true face of the man called Sota—but part of it was a strange realization settling over me.

It's not just that Eusilif was taken from him—he's furious at the fact that 'Arabella' is the one who took Eusilif away?

In the original story too, Sota had known about Eusilif's regenerative powers, and that was why he had used Regita and Dorothea to get his hands on him.

Come to think of it, that had always been a little odd. If he needed Eusilif, he could simply have purchased him as a slave himself—so why go to the trouble of using Arabella?

Maybe he wanted to use Eusilif while leaving no point of contact between them. But what if that wasn't it?

This was pure speculation, but—what if there was some reason why it absolutely had to be Arabella?

The chill in my head vanished in an instant, replaced by a rushing heat.

Could there be hidden truths beyond the cause and effect laid out in the original story?

Eusilif, standing at my side, had said nothing, but his mind was surely just as tangled with thoughts of his own.

Then Regita, who had been trembling like a leaf, spoke up—as if giving voice to exactly what was in my heart.

"Wh-what does Arabella have to do with any of this? What connection could she possibly have to Eusilif? Did that girl have some scheme, is that why she sent Eusilif to me—"

"......"

But Sota only glared at her in silence. His irritation made it plain he wouldn't brook another word, and though Regita visibly shrank, she forced herself to continue.

"Th-there was something off about Arabella yesterday. Really off. She glared at me with fire in her eyes, nothing like her usual self, and she kept saying things I couldn't make head or tail of—"

"What sort of things?"

"Well, when I told her you wouldn't like it if I took that slave away, she went on about how that was exactly what she wanted instead. Can you believe it?"

"What?"

"She acted like it made no difference to her whether you hated it or not. It was absurd. Where was that gallant attitude when she was groveling at your feet, babbling all that nonsense—"

"Did Lady Miona truly say that?"

Sota fell into a pensive silence after asking. The moment he showed a reaction to her words, Regita seized her chance and launched into a litany of slander against me.

"She must have hit her head when she collapsed that day. There's no other explanation. Why else would she suddenly go around stirring up trouble in every direction, as if she wanted to make an enemy of the imperial family?"

But Sota cut her off with cold indifference, as though he'd already lost interest.

"So what will you do now? This time, the exploration of the Closed Labyrinth had to succeed without a hitch—and you've ruined the entire plan."

"But you're a Swordmaster, Brother. You don't need to rely on some measly slave. You could succeed easily on your own."

Sota sneered at that.

"Who said anything about relying on that slave? Think before you speak, Regita."

"I'm sorry..."

"Bring him before me again, Regita. I need him for this expedition. Understand? I need him."

I felt Eusilif beside me go utterly still, his every sense trained on their conversation.

"Y-yes, Brother. Of course. I'll do it, I promise. So... um, the Elixir... you'll still divide it as planned, won't you?"

At the word Elixir that Regita raised in a tone both anxious and servile, my own ears stood straight up.

The Elixir? Don't tell me Regita has been taking it too? But there's nothing in the original story—or in Arabella's memories—about Regita having any health problems.

But Sota, as if he'd only been waiting for her plea, refused her in a single stroke.

"Find me the slave first. We'll consider the Elixir after that."

"But, Brother! The Oculos Feast Day is almost here! Without the Elixir, I can't even leave the palace—I'll be locked in my chambers! Please don't do this, Brother. Please? I'm begging you..."

When Regita suddenly threw herself to the floor and began to wail, I jolted and swallowed hard.