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Chapter 13
The next day.
Lucy headed toward the library where she had arranged to meet Bartholomew.
Her face was full of anticipation.
Five days remained until the imperial banquet.
Now that she had finally secured Bartholomew’s cooperation, she could begin preparing for the banquet in earnest.
“Lord Bartholomew!”
Lucy spotted Bartholomew standing in front of the library doors and called out to him happily.
In contrast, Bartholomew’s expression was dark.
His eyes were deeply sunken, and when he saw Lucy, he let out a small sigh.
Is he in a bad mood?
Lucy studied his complexion.
No. Rather than being upset…
As they entered the library together, Lucy asked,
“Are you regretting it?”
Apparently she had hit the mark, because Bartholomew’s shoulders stiffened slightly.
“But you said yourself that you’d do it.”
“……”
“A gentleman should always keep his word, shouldn’t he?”
Each time she spoke, Lucy stepped closer to him.
Bartholomew instinctively leaned away from her.
Eventually, he glanced down at Lucy, who was practically standing within his arms and looking up at him.
“I understand, so please keep a little distance.”
Only then did Lucy realize she had been pushing too close, and she awkwardly stepped back.
“Well, if we’re going to dance together anyway, we’ll have to stand close. Why not get used to it now?”
“About that dance—”
“Ah!”
Bartholomew had been about to say something, but Lucy interrupted him.
“Lord Bartholomew, there’s another reason I asked to meet in the library.”
Lucy walked ahead first.
Bartholomew followed behind her.
“Some folk songs should be around here…”
Lucy trailed off as she scanned the bookshelf.
Puzzled by her sudden silence, Bartholomew came to stand beside her.
While he looked over the books on the shelf, Lucy clenched both fists tightly.
Are you kidding me?
She checked the shelf again just to make sure.
It was the same as before.
She couldn’t read a single word.
Does my negative intelligence stat mean I can’t even read books?!
She could definitely read simple words.
But books that openly required intelligence? She couldn’t even read the titles.
Unable to believe it, Lucy looked around the shelves frantically.
Finally, she found a book whose title she could read.
Seriously?
She could barely read the titles of children’s fairy tales.
It was practically announcing that this was the limit of her current intelligence level.
“Is there a problem?”
Bartholomew narrowed his eyes at Lucy.
Ever since entering the library, he had been unable to understand her strange behavior.
Lucy whipped her head around to look at him.
As her eyes began shining brightly enough to feel burdensome again, Bartholomew instinctively took a step back.
But it was already too late.
Lucy grabbed both of his hands and said in an emotional voice,
“I’m so glad Lord Bartholomew is here!”
“Please let go of my hands before speaking.”
At Bartholomew’s calm response, Lucy immediately lost some of her momentum.
She asked him to find a book containing folk songs of the empire, and Bartholomew retrieved one for her.
The two sat side by side on a sofa.
“Lord Bartholomew, I’m really sorry, but…”
“What is it this time?”
“Could you read the book for me?”
Bartholomew’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You can’t read?”
A member of the imperial family?
His expression seemed to ask exactly that.
Lucy felt wronged.
It was because of her negative stats—not because she was actually an idiot.
After looking at Lucy’s troubled expression, Bartholomew calmly spoke again.
“Should I start from the beginning?”
“Please find one of the southern folk songs that mentions a scarecrow.”
Though Bartholomew didn’t know why Lucy wanted such a song, he found it and read it aloud.
After confirming the lyrics, Lucy nodded.
“Lord Bartholomew, I asked you to be my dance partner, remember? We’re going to dance to this song.”
One of Bartholomew’s eyebrows lifted.
“They play folk songs like this at imperial banquets?”
“We’ll have to request it separately.”
At Lucy’s answer, Bartholomew fell silent for a moment before speaking.
“Why do you want to dance at the banquet?”
At his question, Lucy blinked.
“Well, because I need to catch His Majesty the Emperor’s attention.”
For Lucy, it was something absolutely necessary if she wanted to reach the game’s true ending, but Bartholomew had no way of knowing that.
“You’ve probably heard the rumors too, Lord Bartholomew. I’m the palace’s ugly duckling.”
“……”
“I live in a separate residence instead of the imperial palace itself, and His Majesty has no interest in me.”
“……”
“So I want to earn a good impression this time. Maybe then he’ll change the way he thinks about me.”
Bartholomew, who had quietly listened to her, asked,
“Have you never thought it might be a useless effort?”
Lucy looked at him with wide eyes.
“I just thought… you must have spent your childhood trying hard to earn His Majesty’s favor.”
Bartholomew continued while looking down at the book.
“Have you never thought that no matter how hard you try, it’s pointless?”
Lucy hadn’t expected him to ask something like that.
It almost sounded as though he truly understood her circumstances.
“You’re right. It was a pointless effort.”
Lucy smiled bitterly.
There was no way she wouldn’t know how desperately Lucy had tried to win the Emperor’s affection.
The game’s settings had explained it in painful detail.
Despite all her efforts, the Emperor had always been cold toward Lucy, while Elisha had cleverly tormented her the entire time.
When she had only played the game, she hadn’t really felt it, but after transmigrating into it herself, she finally understood just how pitiful her situation truly was.
“But doing something is still better than doing nothing.”
She couldn’t simply give up without trying and remain trapped inside the game forever.
“Wouldn’t my efforts shine someday?”
At Lucy’s hopeful answer, one corner of Bartholomew’s lips curled upward.
“I hope that day truly comes.”
Lucy was bothered by the smile lingering on his lips, but she merely nodded.
“Lord Bartholomew, do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Lucy still hadn’t figured out his true identity.
Now that she finally had time alone with him, she intended to learn more about him.
Deep down, Lucy suspected Bartholomew might be Alexander’s brother.
Otherwise, how could he possibly be in line to inherit the family?
This game was such a disaster anyway. Maybe they just never mentioned that Bartholomew existed.
That was how little faith Lucy had in the game.
“I don’t.”
Bartholomew answered shortly.
Then he’s an only child?
So where had Alexander suddenly come from?
Lucy grew confused.
After hesitating for a moment, she carefully asked,
“Could I ask what illness you have?”
Lucy had started wondering if Bartholomew might actually be terminally ill.
He received treatment in the special care room, and when his attacks occurred, he coughed up blood.
Maybe after his death, a relative named Alexander inherited the position of successor.
In other words, perhaps Bartholomew was merely a supporting character destined to disappear before the game’s main story truly began.
Bartholomew lifted his gaze from the book and looked at Lucy.
“Why are you curious about that?”
His tone had turned somewhat sharp, causing Lucy to swallow nervously.
“Well… because I’m worried about you.”
“Worried?”
“You were coughing badly last time, and there’s that suspicious medicine too. I’m worried and curious about what’s happening to you, Lord Bartholomew.”
Bartholomew stared directly into Lucy’s eyes.
“So why are you worried?”
Lucy answered as though it were obvious.
“Because you’re all I have, Lord Bartholomew.”
“……”
“I told you before. It’s not just anyone I need—it’s you, Lord Bartholomew.”
For a moment, Bartholomew was rendered speechless.
Soon, the tips of his ears slowly turned red.
