My New Love That Isn’t Fated - Episode 8

The man who was called to turn his gaze toward Lilia with eyes as calm as a serene lake. His expression revealed no emotions, giving off a sense of distance, like a mythological figure gazing at his reflection on the water and falling in love with it. Lilia thought the man’s face was that beautiful.

His gaze, devoid of joy, anger, sadness, or pleasure, felt almost otherworldly, as if he were something not quite human—like a being with some sort of supernatural charm. It made her feel a little intimidated. Lilia knew the man visited the library often, but this was the first time she had seen him up close.

She couldn’t help but be impressed by how handsome he was. Her husband, Erard, was also good-looking, but there was something different about this man. Perhaps it was the calmness he exuded, or maybe it was just that he seemed older than Erard.

“…Ah. I didn’t realize it was that late,” the man spoke in a quiet, low voice that oddly suited the library, a place where any loud noise would feel out of place.

He closed the book he had been reading, and Lilia noticed the cover. She tilted her head slightly.

“That’s an ancient book from the Third Library, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s from the Third Library. Though taking books out of the library is forbidden, it’s fine to carry them around within the building,” the man replied.

“Of course. Since its closing time, I’ll return the book to its proper place.”

The man placed the book on the table and stood up. He was taller than Lilia by at least a head and had a sturdy build. Lilia wondered if he worked in a physically demanding job. He threw his coat, which was carelessly draped over the back of the sofa, over his shoulders.

“…It’s a princess’s diary,” the man said.

Lilia traced her fingers over the book’s cover. She had majored in ancient script at the Royal Capital University. The Third Library was not part of her usual duties, so she wouldn’t normally visit unless there was a specific reason. Lilia worked here as a librarian and didn’t have the luxury of leisurely reading books. But she felt a strange sense of nostalgia as she looked at the ancient script.

She had chosen to study ancient writing because she found the characters, which combined circles, lines, and animal shapes, endearing. In contrast, the modern script, called Rafal, felt much more like proper writing to her. She marveled at how the characters had evolved from these charming symbols into the more formal characters used today.

“Can you read ancient script?” the man asked.

“Yes, I learned it at university,” Lilia replied.
“Royal Capital University, huh?”

“Yes. I graduated this year, just six months ago.”

“That means I’m six years ahead of you,” the man remarked.

“So you’re also a graduate?” Lilia asked.

At Royal Capital University, students usually graduated at age twenty, though many failed the graduation exams and had to repeat the year. Only about 20% passed the exams and earned their degree, making it a highly competitive institution. If the man had graduated in his first attempt, he would likely be about twenty-six years old.

“It’s rare to major in ancient script. The language, the writing, and even the grammar is all so different from today’s language. It must have been difficult,” the man said.

“I found the pictures of birds and cats in the script quite charming, which is why I like it,” Lilia responded.

“I see,” the man said, listening thoughtfully.

Lilia turned the page of the book, pointing out the characters inside. The material was different from the paper used today; they had used parchment made from sheep skin. The book was bound by hand with thread, and the characters were written by hand, not printed.

Ancient books were rare because most were one-of-a-kind, handwritten by the author. Some manuscripts were copied and circulated, but generally, each book was unique.

The book she held, titled The Diary of a Princess, had an elegant cover and appeared to have been produced by someone of noble rank, given its fine craftsmanship.

“I’ll return this book. Please head home. I’m sorry to rush you, but it’s closing time. Once it gets dark, we aren’t allowed to use lamps in the library, and it can become quite difficult to navigate to the exit,” Lilia said.

“…My apologies. I completely lost track of time,” the man replied.

“No, it’s alright. I’m sure the book is happy that you were so engrossed in it,” Lilia said with a small smile.

“The book is happy?” the man asked, amused. “That’s an odd way to put it.”

“Was that strange?” Lilia asked, feeling a little embarrassed. “I just said what I felt.”

The man’s lips curled slightly into a faint smile, and suddenly his cold, almost otherworldly beauty seemed warmer and inviting.

“It’s not strange. I just thought it was a phrase I wouldn’t have come up with myself.”

His calm, relaxed voice made Lilia feel a little flustered, and she lowered her gaze. She hurriedly closed the book and lifted it with both hands, but the man gently took it from her.

“I’ll take care of returning it. It’s my responsibility for making you take on extra work,” he said.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it,” Lilia protested.

“I’m the one who brought it out. I know where it belongs.”

“Then I’ll go with you. It feels odd just waiting around.”

She knew he could return the book on his own, but Lilia still had to lock up after ensuring everyone had left the library. Either way, she was planning to check the First Library and then move on to the Second and Third Libraries.

“Alright. Then, I’ll rely on you. Will you come with me?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

To reach the Third Library from the First Library, they needed to climb the stairs and walk down the corridor to the right. The Second Library was down the left corridor. The First Library took up the entire first floor, while the Second and Third Libraries occupied the second floor. This was because the First Library constantly received new books, whereas the Second and Third Libraries rarely had new additions.

Together, Lilia and the man climbed the stairs. At the top of the second-floor stairs stood a wooden owl sculpture, symbolizing knowledge. Every time Lilia saw it, she thought how cute it was, especially with its little beret. There was something about the way it stood that reminded her of Christopher, though he didn’t wear a beret.

“You’re the new librarian, right? I’m Owen Linhardt. May I ask your name? It’s hard to call you without one. After all, we’re having a conversation now, and it feels awkward to just refer to you as ‘you over there,'” the man said, smiling slightly.

“I’m Lilia. Lilia… Griez,” she answered.

“Griez, you say…” Owen murmured thoughtfully.

“…I’m the wife of the Marquis Griez,” Lilia added quietly.

She didn’t want to say it, but there was no helping it. She was hardly able to be called a wife. Still, since she was likely to be divorced soon and couldn’t mention Erard’s infidelity, Lilia said it in a small voice.

“I only wanted to know your name. I shouldn’t have asked about your status. I recognized the name, which is why I asked. I apologize for the rudeness.”

“No, it’s alright,” Lilia reassured him.

—Owen is a kind person.

Lilia noticed his sensitivity to her change in tone. Before she could say anything more, he quickly apologized for any discomfort caused.

Lilia, feeling bad for making him worry, smiled up at Owen.