Chapter 38
Evelyn narrowed her eyes, caught in thought, then gave a quiet, breathless laugh. It was pathetic — sitting here, seriously pondering the words of some half-mad hag who used to peddle junk jewelry at roadside stalls.
And yet… what did it say about her, that she was clinging to such nonsense?
There were moments when that one sentence felt like hope. Like a sliver of light in a life that had always been dark and dim.
Even if the old woman had simply been raving and gone senile, Evelyn still wanted to try. Something, anything. Sitting still, doing nothing… that was what truly drove her mad.
No, she thought. Maybe she already was mad just like that woman, Princess Rowena — the one who was said to be her mother.
‘If I’m to be called crazy bxtch once I’m dead, then I’ll be a crazy bxtch while I’m still alive.’
Evelyn clenched both fists, her eyes sharp with sudden light.
“There you are, my lady! Sorry to keep you waiting!”
Laura hurried back and dumped a fresh load of ice into the bucket. Evelyn, who had been quietly watching the cascade of clear shards tumble and clatter, finally spoke.
“Laura.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I heard there’s a library here in Dalebury.”
Despite the sudden turn in topic, Laura showed no surprise, answering with her usual warmth.
“Oh! Yes, that’s right. Would you like me to take you there?”
“Have you been there?”
“Well, of course! I had to check every part of the house you’d be staying in. But, my lady, the library’s a bit dusty right now. It’s probably better to visit after it’s cleaned. It hasn’t been used in… maybe twenty years?”
Condensation beaded the elegant teapot nestled in the bucket. Evelyn’s gaze lingered on the droplets as they slid along the silver curve, then without a word, she rose from her seat.
“No need. Let’s just go now.”
“But the dust—”
“I won’t stay long. I just want a look.”
Laura hesitated for a moment, reluctant to part with the ice, but in the end decided the archive was better than baking under the blazing sun. She said nothing more and quietly followed Evelyn’s lead.
Evelyn had never once set foot in a library. As she stepped inside and took in the rows upon rows of books stretching all the way to the high ceiling, she let out a long, weary sigh. The sight was suffocating.
She’d only learned to read by glimpsing over shoulders and memorized just enough to pass. This? This was a wall of language she couldn’t scale.
Whether she misunderstood the sigh or simply wanted to help, Laura spoke up with a note of concern.
“There’s quite a bit of dust, isn’t there? I knew we should’ve cleaned it first.”
Of course, Evelyn hadn’t even noticed the dust. She said nothing, walking straight toward the nearest shelf, Laura trotting behind.
Her eyes skimmed the cracked leather spines, the yellowed pages, the faintly musty air wafting off the old shelves. Where was she even supposed to begin?
Coming here had been no more than a hunch.
‘Rowena loved the library there.’
The king had said it, offhandedly, during that nightmarish banquet. The words flashed through Evelyn’s mind like a sudden jolt.
For people like her — those who lived in darkness, far from nobility or gentility — “wisdom” was something handed down by word of mouth, nothing more. And human memory, being the fragile thing it was, meant most of it would eventually vanish without a trace.
But the highborn were different. For them, the wisdom of their ancestors was never left to vanish. It was preserved, written down, carefully kept in places like this.
Maybe that was why the strange old woman had gone out of her way to mention Dalebury. Maybe the record she spoke of was hidden here.
The way everything fit together so neatly almost felt staged. And that scared Evelyn. But still… her heart beat faster with something dangerously close to anticipation.
“Isn’t it strange, my lady?”
Laura’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Evelyn turned instead of answering.
“It’s so hot in the garden, but it’s still cool in here.”
True enough. The air in the library was surprisingly pleasant. If not for the dust, it might have even been comfortable.
“That surprises you?”
“Of course it does.”
With a faint smile, Evelyn turned back to the shelves, letting her gaze drift across them as she spoke.
“You didn’t notice on the way here? This wing’s built on lower ground.”
“Huh?”
“It’s underground.”
As Evelyn casually flipped through books about crop guides, pests, and seasonal plants, she continued speaking.
“It’s a gentle slope, so maybe you didn’t notice. It’s not one full floor, but about half a floor lower…”
Her words suddenly cut off.
She looked down to see a strong arm wrapped around her waist. At the same time, soft lips brushed against her nape.
“My wife is quite sensitive, isn’t she?”
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