Chapter 7

There was something amusing about a princess raised in a palace overflowing with real knights delighting in chivalric literature. Suppressing a chuckle, Dianne reached for a book titled <Princess Oliana and Sir Giles>.

A princess reading about a princess. How could she not be curious what it was about?

But before Dianne could even rise onto her toes, an unfamiliar hand reached out from behind her. Startled, she stumbled back, nearly smacking the back of her head into someone’s chest.

“Oh… my apologies. I only meant to help you reach it.”

The voice was deep. Rich. Resonant.

Dianne blinked in surprise and turned around. The first thing she saw was a pair of deep green eyes, like a summer forest.

“Are you alright? It seems I startled you.”

The man was beautiful, almost disarmingly so, with thick honey-gold hair that gleamed in the light. Dianne was hardly short, but he was tall enough to entirely eclipse her frame. Broad shoulders. An imposing presence.

Without another word, he silently offered her the book. <Princess Oliana and Sir Giles>.

Snapping back to her senses, Dianne hastily straightened her slightly disheveled clothes. She must have gotten flustered while browsing the shelves. Anyone who had access to the princess’s personal library was, more likely than not, of higher status than her.

She stepped back and gave a polite bow to the man standing at a respectful distance.

“My apologies, and thank you for your help. I was having some difficulty reaching that one.”

The man said nothing, merely looked down at her. A faint, unreadable expression stirred across his striking face.

Feeling awkward, Dianne clasped her hands together and let her eyes wander. Until suddenly, she remembered what Sir Reussen had said.

‘There is a resident librarian. If you need a book, they’ll find it for you.’

Of course. This man must be the librarian! That would explain everything.

She was slightly puzzled by his casual attire—just a shirt that was loose at the collar—but if the princess hadn’t been visiting lately, it wouldn’t be surprising if the librarian had been slacking off.

Eyes brightening with realization, Dianne asked,

“Are you the librarian here, by any chance?”

The man didn’t answer immediately, but his silence struck her as confirmation.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Dianne Ortenza. I’m the new governess here at Oakhall.”

There was no harm in making a connection. She would be frequenting the library often, after all.

And more than anything, Dianne desperately needed someone to talk to who wasn’t Sir Reussen. The knight was always dutiful and silent, but his lack of conversation—and the complete absence of shared interests—had made the last week feel like her voice was gathering cobwebs.

The man, who had been quietly gazing down at Dianne, suddenly asked,

“How are you finding life at the palace?”

It felt as though she’d been waiting for someone to ask her that exact question. She let out a sigh.

“It feels like a dream, or a nightmare. Depends on the moment.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“And what part of it feels like a nightmare?”

“The fact that I have nothing to do. Just eating three meals a day and sitting around wasting space. It’s maddening.”

Everyone in Oakhall knew about the princess’s condition. At least the maids had the palace to manage. The royal librarian, she assumed, had nothing at all to do. This man, more than anyone, might understand her situation.

But instead, he looked genuinely surprised.

“Isn’t having no work a good thing?”

Dianne stared at him, incredulous.

“And if Her Highness never visits the library, does that mean you enjoy your time off, Librarian?”

Realization flickered across his face. Dianne shook her head, exasperated.

“Not pulling my weight, it ruins even the most delicious meals. Nothing tastes right.”

“Ah… I see.”

His tone was warm with sympathy, and it made her feel just a little better. Energized, Dianne let her frustrations spill out.

“At this rate, if my employer— no, if His Majesty himself decided to punish me, I wouldn’t have any excuse. He’d be right to.”

“Punish you…?”

“Which is why I have to ask, has Her Highness visited the library lately?”

“No… According to others, it’s been at least a month. She hasn’t been here.”

“Then where is she? I don’t even know where to stake out in order to find her.”

The man covered his mouth with one hand, brows drawn tight. He suspiciously looked like he was trying not to laugh. Dianne narrowed her eyes.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

“…Yes. Apologies. I didn’t mean to mock you.”

“You must have met His Majesty before, haven’t you? Would you say he’s the kind of man who’s forgiving of incompetent servants?”

The man pressed his lips together and looked up at the ceiling, as if biting back a laugh. Dianne felt her frustration mount. It wasn’t just how he kept trying not to laugh, it was also the way he watched her, like she was some curious creature he couldn’t figure out.

Her initial admiration for his handsome face, and for what she’d assumed was a respectable position as the royal librarian, was starting to grate.

‘That aside… he looks familiar… No, I must be imagining things.’

It wasn’t the kind of face one could easily forget. And yet, the more Dianne looked at him, the more certain she became. There was something about him that stuck out to her. Especially those green eyes… She’d seen them before. She was sure of it…

Frowning, she searched her memory, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice echoing from the entrance of the library.

“What brings you here, of all places?”

It was Sir Reussen, standing across the shelves, looking visibly flustered. His gaze was locked not on her, but on the man standing beside her.

And then, he bowed his head.

“Your Majesty.”

Dianne turned her head, stiffly, to look up at the man once more. The playful expression she’d nearly mistaken for a smile was now gone, smoothed into something calm and impossibly composed.

He extended a hand toward her. And she, without screaming or trembling, instinctively lifted her right hand. Not by thought, but by sheer reflex, driven by etiquette drilled into her bones.

The man brought her hand to his lips in a feather light kiss.

Rezion Catalos e Catalos, sovereign of the Empire Catalos, said,

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Ortenza. I apologize, I’m afraid I’m not the librarian.”

Dianne would’ve rather fainted.