My New Love That Isn’t Fated - Episode 15

The Historical Archives were located on the third floor of the research building within the royal castle grounds.
Its purpose was to preserve history, and its duties were wide-ranging: deciphering ancient documents, compiling the Rafal royal family’s genealogy, managing noble family registries, and protecting historical sites and artworks across the kingdom.

Because of the nature of the work, it involved a lot of fieldwork, and most of the time, the three staff members, including Owen, were away traveling rather than reporting to the office.

As a result, Owen only went to work a few times a week. Part of it was because there was no point in going to an empty office — but mostly, he simply found it troublesome to go to the castle. Lately, he preferred spending time at the Tenegro Library, where many books on ancient scripts were stored.

Two months ago, Owen had wandered into an open-air market held in front of the church.
Sundays and Mondays were the research building’s days off. The Tenegro Library, being a royal facility as well, was also closed.
With nowhere in particular to be, Owen, finding it dull to stay at home, got dressed and went out.

He wasn’t good at cooking. He wasn’t good at housework either.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford a housekeeper, but he didn’t like anyone entering his personal space.
To keep his house — a place only meant for sleeping — clean, Owen found it best to spend as little time there as possible.
That’s how he often found himself aimlessly wandering the streets from morning onward.

To Owen, it was simply wandering, but thanks to his stern appearance, others often didn’t see it that way.

His subordinates at the Historical Archives liked to joke that he was “a stunning prince — as long as he kept silent.”
The two colleagues had somehow ended up under Owen’s command, meaning Owen now held the position of department head.
The head was supposed to periodically report research findings directly to the king.
Owen couldn’t shake the feeling that the two had nominated him as head simply because they were too scared of Harvey, the king, to face him themselves.
Not that he particularly minded.

Still, Owen, who was often told by the two that he was “bad at choosing words” and that “his true self slips out if he’s not careful,” wasn’t great at talking to people.
That’s why he usually spent his days off wandering silently, grabbing meals, browsing books at shops, or buying new clothes, until the day ended.

That day, Owen had decided to go to the St. Lunemaria Church in the capital to listen to the Sunday hymns.
During Sunday services, children and women sang together.
Though not a devoted believer, Owen loved listening to songs.
Not the kind performed at the royal theater, but simple, heartfelt music played at street cafés or sung at churches.

On Sundays, a free market was also held in front of the church — anyone could set up a stall.
It had been started on Harvey’s initiative.

There, Owen bought a handkerchief embroidered with a little owl.
It was stitched carefully on white cloth — so charming that he fell for it at first sight.
The Tenegro Library’s second floor had owl statues on display. Owen loved owls — but he especially liked little owls with bunny-like tufts on their heads.

“Thank you for your purchase.”
“Did you make this? It’s very well done.”
“Yes. I’m happy you like it.”

The young woman under a sun hat gave him a shy, graceful smile.

“Why a little owl?” he asked.
“Well, it’s based on an ancient script. Ancient writings often featured rabbits, cats, and little owls…”

Owen glanced at the handkerchief again, understanding.
No wonder he had fallen for it instantly.
The little owl’s shape matched the bird motifs sometimes seen in the ancient scripts he studied.

Owen had always thought of the bird as some kind of “mystery bird,” but this woman had seen it as a little owl.
Now that she said it, it made perfect sense.

He wanted to talk with her more.
But her stall seemed popular, and as Owen spoke to her, a line of customers began forming behind him.
Owen gave a small bow and stepped away.

A month later, when Owen visited the Tenegro Library as usual, he found the little owl woman there.
He started sitting by the windows of the first reading room, carrying ancient books from the third archive — just so he could catch glimpses of her working gracefully without making a sound.

It wasn’t like he had ulterior motives.
He didn’t plan to approach her or get closer to her.
He just liked seeing her occasionally out of the corner of his eye.
That alone should have been enough.

But one day, he became so absorbed in his books that he lost track of time.
When he looked up, he saw the little owl woman — Lilia — singing softly and dancing lightly around the room.

It felt like the Tenegro Library had turned into a theater in a forest.
The books became birds, fluttering around her, and the stained glass bathed her in light like sun filtering through trees.

(How beautiful, he thought.)

He found himself staring in awe before hurriedly dropping his gaze back to his book.
As he was thinking it was about time to leave, Lilia spoke to him.

Realizing she could read ancient scripts, Owen had desperately persuaded her to help with his research.
He genuinely needed her cooperation — but more than that, he simply wanted an excuse to keep talking to her.

He knew she had a husband.
He knew that these feelings might be forbidden.
But still — just a little longer.

Owen didn’t know much about Elad Griez.
Only that the Griez family was an old noble house, known for its extravagance — nobles behaving exactly as one would expect.
And apparently, Elad was being unfaithful.

A cold anger welled up deep inside Owen.

Elad, who left Lilia alone to chase after other women, didn’t deserve her.