Chapter 8
Clements had hidden me inside a deep trunk after removing all his belongings from it. Clutching the long hem of the cloak I’d been wearing in the forest, I quietly climbed out of the tall trunk.
Now came the real problem.
I steadied myself, eyeing the shortest route from my current position to the door. The Crown Prince’s assigned room was spacious enough that the trunk’s location and the path to the door were both quite far from the bed where Clements was sleeping.
But according to statistical evidence derived from countless works I’d read, 99.8% of male leads in romance-fantasy novels were extremely light sleepers—especially when someone was up to something in their room. In such cases, the probability of them waking up at the critical moment was ridiculously high.
“Hmm…”
If Clements caught me sneaking out, it would be game over—possibly even death. I had to abandon any hope that he’d believe I was the chick he cherished so dearly before he fell asleep. If I revealed myself as Bella’s maid instead, things could escalate even worse.
“Yes, of course!”
I pulled out the pouch that had protected me countless times in moments of crisis. Inside was powdered, dried habil root.
The thought of shoving a sleep aid under the male lead’s nose… Honestly, forgive me! I know I’m just a side character!
Holding my breath so as not to make even the faintest sound, I crept forward step by step. I felt exactly like a thief.
When I reached his side, Clements’ face looked a little sad yet beautiful, like a plaster angel.
Would that sadness be healed once he met Bella? I found myself wondering. Love with one person wasn’t everything to a human being—but in romance-fantasy, it often was.
“So please, let your answer be to love Bella.”
As I sprinkled the pouch’s contents, the slight frown on his face faded. His expression turned into one of complete serenity.
The pounding in my chest slowly calmed.
The mansion at night was practically my domain. For the eight years I had been sneaking Bella away, I’d memorized exactly where the guards would be stationed at every hour.
“Bella!”
I hurried without hesitation to Bella’s room. I called her name in a hushed voice—but the room was empty.
“Huh?”
She wasn’t there. I’d thought she would either be transformed into a black panther staring blankly out the window at the distant mountains, or already asleep.
But the fact that she wasn’t in her room meant she had gone out in that form.
“How?! Without anyone keeping watch… and with so many outsiders in the mansion because of the Crown Prince’s visit! Oh my goodness, Bella!”
This was bad. Bella, already like a child left unsupervised by the water’s edge, had vanished. I frantically checked the dressing room and the bathroom, but they were empty. I rushed outside in a panic.
“Where could she be?!”
I searched all the places she might have been or passed through, but every one of them was silent as the grave.
Eventually, I trudged back to Bella’s room, exhausted and with nothing to show for it.
The only consolation was that no one seemed to have discovered her. If the household had spotted her, there would’ve been some commotion at least.
So Bella had managed to slip out safely. But where had she gone?
“Ha, what should I do…?”
Bella knew I had disappeared from the forest. Maybe she had gone out there alone to look for me. If so, we’d completely missed each other.
What should I do?
Should I wait here for her until morning?
“But…”
At dawn, I’d return to being the mute, powerless chick. I had to act before that happened—if I wanted to alter the story’s course and break my curse.
In the end, I sat at Bella’s desk and wrote a note.
[My dearest Bella, it’s me, Ophelia. I’m sorry for making you worry. The truth is,
The truth is…]
What should I write? That I had encountered terrifying demon-beast sisters in the forest and was cursed the same way she was? That the Crown Prince was tormenting me and she should please save me?
If I wrote that, Bella would be so worried. And if I said Clements was holding me captive, Bella would surely demand my return in front of him. That would only make their already strained relationship explode completely.
No. I had to resolve this on my own.
So I continued writing: I was safe. I couldn’t appear for a while because of circumstances, but I would definitely return to her side soon.
After some thought, I even added a line about Clements—that he seemed like someone who would suit her, so maybe she should try getting closer to him.
Once the note was finished, I placed it somewhere she would easily see it, then hurried out.
As a noble, I had more freedom of movement than ordinary servants. Though I ate and slept at the count’s house, there had been many times over the past eight years when I’d gone home late at night after finishing tasks.
Which meant—I could pass through the main gate guards without raising suspicion.
“Ophelia! Where on earth have you been? Do you know how long everyone has been searching for you?”
“Uncle Perrot, you were looking for me too? I’m so sorry. Actually, I finished the young lady’s errands a while ago, but then I dozed off in a secret spot only I know! Can you believe it?”
“Good grief.”
“When I woke up, everyone was shouting my name, and the sun had already set! I was so embarrassed I thought I’d die. The young lady was angry too and told me to just go home. Hehe.”
After eight years of serving as the young lady’s secret guard, I’d become an expert at making up plausible excuses. As expected, faithful gatekeeper Uncle Perrot believed me completely and clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… You must have been so exhausted, for a child to fall asleep like that in broad daylight. Go home and get some rest. And be careful on the road at night.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for your hard work. Loyalty!”
Though not a formal knight, Uncle Perrot always trained in swordsmanship during his spare time and lived with the spirit of a knight.
I performed the knight’s salute, striking my left chest with my clenched right fist, and turned to go. Behind me, I heard him mutter awkwardly:
“Honestly, that kid…”
I’m sorry for deceiving you, Uncle. I can’t tell you the truth, but… I really am sorry.
Pulling up the hood attached to my cloak, I headed for a bookstore that stayed open late at night.
To break my curse, I would need magic. The problem was, in this remote countryside town of Honwood, it was hard to find anyone who practiced magic. Strange, considering it was supposed to be a land infused with magic—but there was a reason for that.
As an alternative, I came here—my usual bookstore.
“Well, if it isn’t Ophelia! Perfect timing. I was just starting to miss you since I haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Hello, Mr. Simon.”
The young man sitting amidst a pile of books greeted me cheerfully.
This world being a romance-fantasy setting wasn’t wasted—even a small shopkeeper with no real role in the story would count as handsome by the standards of my original world.
Of course, I didn’t become a regular just because of his face. I genuinely enjoyed reading. Really, I did.
“Been busy lately? According to my contacts in the capital, volume six of ‘The Princess Is a Hypochondriac’, which you asked about, has just finished being drafted. It should be published soon. Want me to set aside a copy for you?”
“Oh, absolutely. That would be wonderful, thank you.”
By now, Simon could glance at my face and immediately recall my reading history, my favorite authors, the books I was currently into, and even predict the list of titles I’d be interested in next.
Come to think of it, he was practically an AlphaGo of books.
…But wait. If the story unfolded as in the original, Bella and Clements would be returning to the imperial palace within days—and of course, I would have to go with them. Would I even be able to buy the book Simon reserved for me? Probably not.
“Actually, I came to order a different book today.”
“Hm? You’re not buying that one? That’s unusual. Did the author kill someone or something?”
“Not exactly.”
Of all the metaphors to use. His words left me strangely unsettled.
“What book would you like to order, Lady Ophelia?”
“I’m not a lady—I’m a lady’s maid, remember?”
Simon, who vaguely knew my status, would sometimes joke and call me “lady.” I assumed it was a harmless prank, like when I saluted Perrot like a knight.
“Please get me a book on magic.”
“What? Magic?”
Simon reacted as though a student who always hung around the light novel section had suddenly walked up to the counter with an Olympiad-level science textbook. And well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Up until now, I’d mostly been reading romance novels here.
“Yes. Not blue magic, but rather red… or black magic. Something related to summoning or curses would be ideal.”
Magic, after all, wasn’t all the same.
Blue magic had risen alongside the empire itself, flourishing spectacularly in recent times. It was rational and knowledge-based, treating mana through the lens of “scholarship.”
Thus, blue magic was what magic universities and towers primarily taught. When someone said they were studying magic, this was usually what they meant. It was respectable, promising, and had a bright future.
Red magic, on the other hand, traced back to the distant past. It relied less on calculation and reason, and more on intuition, mysteries, or even divine inspiration. It was better suited to shamans, seekers, or priests of ancient religions than to academics.
Black magic referred specifically to branches of red magic that dealt with entities related to the demon realm.
Long ago, red magic had vastly outstripped blue magic in power. But times changed, paradigms shifted, and above all, the Simic Church—the empire’s state religion—condemned red magic. Consequently, most of the great families once associated with it, such as the Sangria clan, had collapsed into ruin.
So then—what kind of magic would a remote borderland like Honwood, where demonic mist rose from the earth, monsters appeared to curse people, strange abilities were born, and there was no reason to build blue-magic academies, most likely be connected with?
