Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
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"Is that all you need?" Sofia placed all the books on the table, creating a thud that echoed in the quiet library. "Thank you, Sofi! You saved me a big time," Arya's gentle voice brought a blush to her cheeks as she made a shy gesture.
"And sorry for making you do that," Arya said, looking at the bundle of papers wrapped tightly in white cloth. Sofia shook her head, "It was no trouble at all. I'm glad I could help," her shyness is obvious on her face. Arya felt grateful to have someone like Sofia by her side, gently smiling as she patted her head, "I am thankful for you." Sofia blushed even harder, a silly smile form onto her lips.
Arya immersed herself in the books, mostly about the heroic tales of the great four warlords. She sought any hint about the sorcerers. Time slipped away unnoticed—day turned into dusk, dusk into sunset, evening into nightfall—but Arya remained focused on the books. Miya brought lunch, but by dinner, it remained untouched. Arya hadn't even glanced at the food. Books piled around her, forming walls; she was engulfed in them.
"My lady, it's past dinnertime. Please have something. You can continue tomorrow. Your body needs rest too," Miya pleaded. Arya responded with only an absent "um-hmm," her attention fixed solely on the books.
"My lady?" Miya's voice rang clear in her call, but Arya didn't even glance at her when she ordered Miya to "keep it there and leave." Dejected, Miya placed the cart within Arya's reach and left, taking the untouched lunch. After searching all day, Arya managed to find something related to the sorceresses -
"Once, I had an encounter with the black witch. She was consumed by rage, tears streaming down her face, appearing as though she had lost all meaning in life. I couldn't help but wonder, can someone like her truly feel pain? The question lingered in my mind like an elusive puzzle.
Driven by curiosity, I followed her into the depths of the forbidding Black Forest. She showed no intention of stopping, leading me deeper into its shadows. Finally, she sought refuge behind a gnarled tree, her attention fixed on someone beyond my sight.
I watched in silence as she peered at a woman, her face etched with clouded sadness. A bitter smile played on her lips, as if she both admired and envied the woman's laughter. It was as though she longed to embrace the light of happiness, yet felt unworthy of it. In that moment, I couldn't help but wonder if she, too, yearned to be part of that joy.
Perhaps, I mused, she is not so different from us after all. Maybe, beneath her hardened exterior, she is merely a human with emotions that warp her heart. And in that moment, I found myself questioning: is it truly so wrong to be consumed by greed?"
"Whose tale was this?" She closed the book to read the title. "A Basilisk? The founder of House Basilisk?! How come there's no more?" She let out a tired yawn, the clock striking past eleven, still there was one more book left to read. Thinking she could manage, she started reading it.
