Chapter 64: The Loose-Lipped Bookseller

Chapter 64: Chapter 64: The Loose-Lipped Bookseller

The implication in Elysia’s words was unmistakable.

Vaelen’s current punishment had been brought upon by himself. If he continued behaving as he had, he would only earn more of His Majesty’s displeasure.

His expression darkened.

After a brief silence, he forced a casual laugh.

"If only we could meet Alhena today."

Elysia’s hand paused halfway to her mouth.

Queen Ilara looked at him curiously.

"Alhena? Who is that?"

"An author," Vaelen replied, glancing towards Elysia. "She writes remarkably popular stories."

He smiled faintly.

"Surely you’ve heard of her, Aunt?"

Elysia answered without the slightest hesitation.

"I haven’t."

Recognition dawned on Queen Ilara.

"Ah, now I remember. At Sylrienne’s birthday banquet, the Corvis Family presented her with a handwritten manuscript. She treasured it dearly. It was Alhena’s work."

Vaelen nodded.

"Exactly. According to Sylrienne’s sources, Alhena will attend today’s salon. I promised my sister I’d try to find her."

The cake in Elysia’s hand suddenly lost all flavour.

That loose-lipped woman...

The bookshop owner’s wife.

She had repeatedly emphasised that her identity must remain secret, yet somehow the news had already spread.

Even Vaelen knew Alhena would appear today.

Watching the subtle change in her expression, Vaelen continued deliberately, "Mother, anyone capable of writing stories as captivating as Alhena’s must possess extraordinary talent. I’ve also heard she’s a noble lady from the capital..."

"And Sylrienne admires her greatly."

He smiled lightly.

"She even hopes Alhena might become my Crown Princess. We should meet her later. If she’s truly as gifted as everyone says..."

"...I wouldn’t mind making her the future Crown Princess."

Elysia lowered her gaze.

A knot of anxiety tightened in her chest.

Her planned meeting with Alma was now impossible.

Fortunately, years ago, when she had delivered Legends of Cassiopeia to Calm Spring Bookshop, she had concealed herself beneath a heavy veil that completely covered her face.

Even if Alma stood before her now, she shouldn’t be able to recognise her.

That thought eased her nerves considerably.

She calmly picked up another pastry and even passed one to Lillian.

Watching her relax so quickly, Vaelen narrowed his eyes.

Then he understood.

She still cared.

She still cared about him...

...and about the woman who would become his Crown Princess.

She was simply better at hiding it now.

Her emotions flashed across her face for only an instant before disappearing again.

He sneered inwardly.

Hide it all you want.

When I finally marry...

You’ll be the one crying outside the Crown Prince’s Wing, begging for another chance.

---

Soon, the verse salon officially began.

Although everyone knew it was little more than a carefully disguised bride selection for the Crown Prince, Queen Ilara maintained the proper appearance.

With a graceful smile, she announced the theme.

"Summer."

Each young lady would compose a poem inspired by the season before presenting it to the gathering.

It was an elegant excuse for every noble daughter to display her literary talent before both the Queen and the Crown Prince.

As the Duchess of Draevenor, Elysia enjoyed a privileged seat beside Queen Ilara.

Completely unconcerned with the competition, she leisurely sampled pastries while watching everyone else write.

Lillian, however, looked utterly miserable.

She bit the end of her writing brush.

Frowned.

Scratched her head.

Shifted in her seat.

After quite some time, her sheet of paper remained almost completely blank.

Elysia nearly laughed.

It was obvious Lillian possessed little talent for poetry.

She was only here because Melissa had insisted.

After finishing another plate of pastries, Elysia noticed a familiar middle-aged woman entering the hall.

It was Alma—the wife of the owner of Calm Spring Bookshop.

Alma stood near the entrance, carefully studying every young lady present as though searching for someone. Her gaze moved from one face to another, lingering briefly whenever a woman’s appearance seemed to fit the clues she had been given.

Before she could move farther, Queen Ilara beckoned her forward.

"We’ve heard you’ve come to meet Alhena."

Flustered by the Queen’s attention, Alma quickly bowed.

"Your Majesty... I never imagined such a trivial matter would reach your ears."

Queen Ilara smiled warmly.

"My daughter, Princess Sylrienne, greatly admires Alhena."

She leaned forward slightly.

"So tell me... Have you met her before?"

"I have, Your Majesty." Alma nodded respectfully.

"Several years ago, when Alhena completed Legends of Cassiopeia, she personally delivered the manuscript to our bookshop. However..."

She paused briefly.

"She wore a heavy veil over her face. I never saw her features clearly."

Vaelen frowned.

"Then how do you intend to recognise her today?"

Alma answered, "In her most recent letter, Alhena instructed us to meet here. She wrote that she still wouldn’t reveal her face."

"Instead, she would wear a light veil..."

"...and pretend to have a slight limp. That would be our signal."

Vaelen chuckled.

"Remarkably cautious."

His curiosity towards the mysterious author only deepened.

"Have you found her yet?" Queen Ilara asked.

Alma shook her head.

Then, quite by accident, her eyes met Elysia’s.

She paused.

A puzzled expression crossed her face.

For several seconds, she simply stared. Something about the Duchess’s eyes, posture, or perhaps even the way she held herself seemed to stir a vague memory that Alma could not quite place.

"What is it?" Vaelen asked immediately.

Alma continued staring for another moment.

"It’s strange..."

She hesitated.

"For some reason... This lady seems oddly familiar."

Elysia’s heart skipped a beat.

Outwardly, however, her expression remained perfectly composed.

"Have we met before?"

Before Alma could answer, Queen Ilara smiled.

"This is the Duchess of Draevenor."

At the mention of this title, Alma’s eyes widened.

She immediately lowered her head.

"My apologies, Your Grace. I spoke carelessly."

Elysia smiled faintly, "I almost thought you were about to say that I was Alhena."

Alma shook her head vigorously, terrified of offending the Duke’s household.

"I wouldn’t dare, Your Grace."

Vaelen let out a dismissive snort.

"Of course she isn’t."

He looked at Elysia with unconcealed disdain.

"She can barely compose an ordinary letter. How could she possibly write stories beloved throughout the kingdom?"