Chapter 324| You Hate Reading, Yet You Love The People Who Enjoy Reading. In My Opinion... That Is An Incredibly, Incredibly Sweet Trait.
"Where are we going?"
Elodie’s innocent question slipped out so casually, yet it successfully froze Raphael’s boots mid-stride on the cobblestone pavement.
They had just stepped past the gates of the airfield. The thrum of the helicopter rotors had long faded into the southern clouds, leaving behind a sudden silence that felt painfully awkward.
Raphael stood like a statue, his mind as blank as a white canvas. His brain spun wildly, hunting for an answer. Where? Damn it, I didn’t think this far ahead.
His spontaneous invitation earlier had been driven by a single, stubborn urge: he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her. But where?!
"Raphael?" Elodie waved a hand in front of his face. "Yoo-hoo, are you daydreaming?"
"I’m not daydreaming. I am... constructing a plan." Raphael quickly shoved both hands into his pockets, hoping his body language would conceal the fact that his brain had hit a complete dead-end. "We’re going to the Northern Lights Plaza."
"The Northern... what?"
"Northern Lights Plaza. The new shopping and entertainment hub in the heart of the city," Raphael explained. "Have you ever been?"
Elodie shook her head slowly. "I’ve only passed by the main gates when delivering my dad’s harvest carts to the market. But I’ve never stepped inside." She looked at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "What exactly are we going to do there anyway?"
"Plenty of things. We can... walk around. Look at stuff. Find some good food." Raphael pivoted on his heels, gesturing with his chin for her to follow. "Besides, you’ve never been inside, right? Consider this a free tour."
Elodie fell into step beside him, her stride light and cheerful. "Alright then. But you’re treating, right?"
"Of course. I’m the one who invited you."
The Northern Lights Plaza stood imposing and grand at the main intersection of Iron Hearth.
The three-story building was designed with an industrial red-brick facade, merged with sturdy steel frames supporting a colossal glass atrium at its peak. Even from the outside, pedestrians could peer in to see the brilliant crystal chandeliers hanging majestically from the ceilings, casting a warm, golden-yellow glow. Above the revolving glass entrance doors, a sleek black metal sign bore embossed silver lettering: NORTHERN LIGHTS PLAZA.
Elodie stopped dead in her tracks in front of the glass doors. Her head tilted back stiffly, her eyes wide as she stared at the glass ceiling soaring to meet the clouds.
"This... this is definitely not just some ordinary street market, Raphael."
"Told you." Raphael pushed the glass door open. "Let’s head inside. Let me show you around."
The moment her boots crossed the threshold, Elodie was welcomed by a panorama she had never witnessed in her entire life.
The polished marble floor beneath her feet was so pristine it reflected the light of dozens of crystal chandeliers hanging above. Along the ground floor, elite food stalls were lined up neatly. The delicious aroma of toasted butter, rich savory beef broth, and fragrant herbal tea blended into a singular, heavenly scent that instantly tortured the hunger pangs in her stomach.
On the second floor, rows of boutiques displayed elegant silk dresses and tailored shirts behind stained-glass shopfronts. And faintly, from the third floor, the chaotic din of music and children’s laughter drifted down from the arcade.
Raphael guided Elodie up the gently sloping escalator toward the second floor. He came to a halt in front of an elegant boutique with a sign that read: Silverbrook Attire.
Behind the glass display, wooden mannequins modeled high-end casual wear—graceful knitted wool dresses, linen blouses that looked as light as cotton, long floral skirts, and pastel shirts.
"What are we buying in an expensive place like this?" Elodie asked, her voice shrinking slightly in hesitation.
"Not we. You." Raphael pushed the boutique door open and gestured for her to enter. "Pick any outfit you like. I’ll take care of the bill."
Elodie immediately shook her head so vigorously her hair whipped around. "Raphael, don’t be ridiculous! I can’t possibly accept—"
"El." Raphael cut her off, looking straight into her brown eyes. "Consider it... a gift. For graciously agreeing to accompany me on this spontaneous walk today. And... for diligently watering your plants this morning."
"That is a terribly, terribly silly reason," Elodie protested, her brow furrowing.
"Silly or not, my reason successfully made the corners of your mouth curl upward, didn’t it?"
Checkmate. Elodie clamped her lips shut, trying to fight back a smile that was already blossoming uncontrollably. The girl finally let out a resigned sigh and stepped into the fragrant boutique.
Her fingers, usually accustomed to gripping hoes, reached out to touch the rows of displayed blouses. Hsss... The texture of the fabric was extraordinarily soft, gliding smoothly against her skin, a stark contrast to the coarse hemp cloth she typically wore to the fields.
After spending ten minutes rotating through indecisive choices, Elodie’s gaze landed on a simple, light blue linen blouse featuring delicate, small white flowers embroidered along the collar.
"This. I think... I like this one," Elodie said softly, her voice barely a whisper out of sheer embarrassment.
Raphael threw a fleeting glance at the price tag hanging from the sleeve, then pulled several silver coins from his coat pocket. He placed them on the counter without a single word of bargaining.
"Change into it in the dressing room," Raphael ordered casually. "I’ll wait outside."
Five minutes passed. The dressing room door finally creaked open. Click.
Elodie stepped out awkwardly. The light blue blouse fit her frame flawlessly. The white flower embroidery on the collar looked incredibly sweet, contrasting beautifully and highlighting her skin, which was slightly, exotically tanned from her long days under the field sun.
Raphael, who was leaning against a display rack, suddenly froze.
Every single word in his vocabulary instantly evaporated. He opened his mouth, closed it like a goldfish, and then opened it again. Gulp. He swallowed hard.
"I-I... that is... the shirt..." Raphael rubbed the back of his neck, which had suddenly turned boiling hot. His eyes darted around erratically—looking at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but directly at Elodie’s face. "The blouse... it suits you. Really suits you."
Elodie looked down, her fingers busily smoothing the hem of her blouse even though it was already perfectly straight. "Are... are you serious?"
"I am." Raphael finally mustered the courage to lock his gaze onto her. He drew a quiet breath. "You... look really beautiful, El."
A sweet, intoxicating silence crept between them. Elodie lowered her head further, hiding cheeks that had now reached the shade of a ripe strawberry.
Unable to bear the rapid hammering of his own heart, Raphael hurriedly turned around and cleared his throat. "Ahem! C-Come on. Let’s find some food now. I’m suddenly starving."
They eventually docked at a cozy, classic diner on the ground floor.
On their round wooden table sat two bowls of steaming, rich beef soup, a basket of toasted wheat bread, and two tall glasses of herbal tea. All around them, the plaza’s atmosphere felt wonderfully alive—young families laughing with their children, nobles enjoying their lunch breaks, and merchants exchanging warm greetings.
Elodie scooped her soup slowly, blowing on it gently. "By the way, Raphael... about that book I borrowed from the castle library last night..."
"Oh, the gardening book?" Raphael tore off a piece of his wheat bread casually. "How is it? Any new herbal recipes you can apply to your fields?"
Elodie’s hand froze mid-air. Crap, that cheesy romance novel! "Ah... y-yes! Plants. Lots of pictures of plants," Elodie answered in a minor panic. "Incredibly... incredibly educational."
The girl quickly stuffed a spoonful of soup into her mouth, nearly choking as she desperately prayed Raphael wouldn’t catch her panicked blush.
"Good to hear it’s useful." Raphael harbored absolutely no suspicion. He chewed his bread. "By the way... what kind of books do you actually enjoy reading the most, El?"
Elodie stopped chewing. She stared at Raphael with a raised eyebrow. "You know, Raphael... you are the first person in this city to ever ask me that."
"Really?"
"Really." Elodie set down her spoon. "At school, the teachers and other students only care about my root magic talent. Or they ask for my test-score tricks. Not a single person has ever bothered to ask me what kind of books I actually like to read."
Elodie rested her chin on her hand, staring intently at him. "What about you? What kind of books does a prince like you usually enjoy reading?"
Raphael fell silent for a moment, idly stirring his soup. "To be honest... I rarely read books."
"Oh? Then why did you look so incredibly proud showing off your family’s library to me last night?"
"Because... that library is a magical place that always successfully makes the people around me feel happy," Raphael answered softly, his eyes staring at his own reflection in the soup. "Brother Rianor can lock himself in there for hours without eating. Sister Raveena loves reading magic journals there. Even the workaholic Sister Rumina occasionally steals time to read historical novels. I... I just like seeing the look on their faces when they’re happy."
Elodie offered a very faint, tender smile. Her chest felt remarkably warm. "You are a very strange man, Raphael."
"Strange? How so?"
"You hate reading, yet you love the people who enjoy reading." Elodie tilted her head slightly. "In my opinion... that is an incredibly, incredibly sweet trait."
Raphael didn’t return the compliment. He merely shrugged nonchalantly and went back to scooping his soup. But... the corners of his lips undeniably curved upward, hiding a smile. And Elodie caught that smile flawlessly.
After eating, they headed up to the third floor of the Northern Lights Plaza—the arcade and entertainment hall.
This was where the chaotic din of human voices and the clattering ring of game machines echoed the loudest. All sorts of game stands lined the floor, tempting visitors: ring toss stands, target shooting with cork-bullet air rifles, magnetic fishing pools for toddlers, and a giant roulette wheel of fortune spinning in the corner.
Raphael and Elodie dove into everything like children newly released from a cage.
At the ring toss stand, Raphael confidently threw first. Swoosh! His plastic ring sailed comically wide, striking the shoulder of a middle-aged man who was intensely aiming his own throw. The man whipped around with a fierce glare, sending Elodie into a panic as she quickly dragged Raphael away by the arm, desperately stifling her laughter.
Then it was Elodie’s turn to show off. Her throw arched beautifully in the air, nearly landing perfectly on the center peg... only to bounce off the wooden rim and clatter to the ground. "Aaargh! It was so close!" she complained in frustration.
Raphael let out a mocking chuckle. "The word ’close’ doesn’t count on the scoreboard, El."
Next, they moved to the target shooting stand. They stood side-by-side, each hoisting a long-barreled air rifle.
Raphael raised his rifle, stepping into a flawless military stance exactly as Sergeant Garon had taught him. He narrowed his eyes, aiming like a seasoned sniper. Thwack! His cork bullet discharged... and missed the target doll by a humiliating full meter.
Elodie couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. She took aim casually. Thwack! Her bullet grazed the ear of the wooden target, sending the doll spinning but failing to knock it down. "Wow, seems like you seriously need to request private tutoring from Sergeant Garon, Raphael," Elodie teased gleefully.
Raphael huffed in irritation, glaring at his rifle barrel. "Tch. This air rifle’s calibration is defective."
At the magnetic fishing stand, they ended up crouching side-by-side at the edge of the toy pool, holding small bamboo rods equipped with magnetic tips. Toddlers around them squealed in delight as they reeled in plastic fish, while Raphael and Elodie completely ignored their rods, far too busy talking and laughing together.
"How many have you caught?" Elodie teased, peering into Raphael’s empty bucket.
"Zero."
"Same. I haven’t caught any either."
That afternoon, they walked away without winning a single souvenir. No teddy bears. No lollipops from the wheel of fortune. They had failed miserably at every single game.
But after spending nearly two hours on that floor... not once did Raphael see that brilliant smile fade from Elodie’s face.
Twilight began to slowly creep over the city. The two of them stepped out of the plaza and resumed their walk along the stone sidewalk.
At a quiet three-way intersection, Elodie stopped. "Well, I turn left toward my house from here. You go straight to the right toward the castle, correct?"
Raphael gave a stiff nod. But his feet felt as if they were bolted to the asphalt. Unwilling to move.
There was a strange, powerful urge weighing in his chest. The young man stared straight at Elodie—this extraordinary girl who had just spent an entire day with him. Standing gracefully in her new light blue blouse, her brown hair slightly tossed by the evening breeze.
Gulp. Raphael swallowed hard. His heart hammered wildly, far worse than during any of his military examinations. He had been gathering these fragments of courage ever since they left the plaza.
"El."
"Yeah?"
Raphael clenched his fists inside his pockets. "El... would you... be my girlfriend?"
Elodie blinked her round eyes. She tilted her head slightly. "Girlfriend?"
"Yeah. My girlfriend," Raphael repeated hopefully, his face deadpan and tense.
Elodie’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, creating a cute crease on her forehead. "Raphael... aren’t we already friends? I’m already your friend. Why are you asking that?"
Raphael froze. "Eh?"
CRACK!
A bolt of realization violently struck Raphael’s brain, a massive fact registering far, far too late.
Girlfriend. That specific word belonged to planet Earth! To his past life!
Elodie was born and raised here, in Aethel-Terra. A world that, linguistically and culturally, had absolutely no concept of modern dating terms like ’girlfriend’.
"Raphael? Hello? Why did you suddenly freeze up like a statue?" Elodie waved her hand in front of his face, her expression slightly anxious. "Did I say something wrong?"
"N-N-No! Not at all!" Raphael reflexively threw both hands into the air in pure panic. His face, ears, and neck instantly flushed a boiling red from the embarrassment exploding in his head. "I... I was just... ah, forget it! Never mind!"
"Never mind what?"
"Never mind talking! Just erase that weird word from your brain!" Raphael quickly took multiple steps back, violently rubbing his neck. "Umm... s-see you tomorrow in class, El!"
Elodie remained standing there, watching him with an unanswered, curious expression. "Are you sure? From the way you were acting the whole walk back, you looked like someone desperately holding back something important to say."
"Nothing important! Seriously!" Raphael had already spun one hundred and eighty degrees, preparing to flee.
Elodie finally let out a resigned sigh. "Well, alright then if you don’t want to share. See you tomorrow morning." She turned and began to walk away.
But after five paces, she glanced back over her shoulder, offering her sweetest smile of the day. "Raphael... truly, thank you so much for today. I was really, really happy spending time with you."
Raphael couldn’t bring himself to turn around. He merely raised one hand with his back to her, offering a stiff, parting wave.
The prince stood frozen at the intersection, ensuring Elodie’s back walked further and further away until she vanished around the corner. Only then did Raphael cover his face with both palms and let out an incredibly, deeply miserable groan.
"Idiot," he cursed himself. "The absolute biggest idiot. I’ve been in this world for five years, and my brain somehow forgot they don’t even have that word in their vocabulary."
He spun around, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, and began to drag his feet back toward the castle.
Above the evening sky, the streetlamps of Iron Hearth began to ignite one by one. Reflecting a golden radiance over the emptying sidewalks... serving as a silent, glowing witness to the youngest prince’s first failed confession.