"Even won of such noble status, well-educated and beautiful, cannot find true love?"
Sif was sowhat shocked, but she didn’t rush to retort; she listened quietly instead.
"Yes." The Magic Mirror responded directly.
Sif clenched the silk handkerchief in her hand, twisting it into a ball.
Seeing Sif remain silent, the Magic Mirror continued, "I have witnessed more than once how princesses brought n other than their husbands ho, while their husbands seldom ca by, and even in front of ..."
"Shut up!"
Sif interrupted the Magic Mirror before it could start recounting the R-rated story.
"I would never do that!"
The Magic Mirror obediently shut its mouth.
It couldn’t quite understand why Sif was so agitated, as it hadn’t said that she would do such things.
Seeing Sif silent for a long ti, it tried to console her, "Master, it’s too early for you to think about these things; after all, you haven’t even found love, let alone marriage."
"Magic Mirror, shut up!"
This ti, Sif was genuinely angry.
The Magic Mirror’s words had hurt her.
Unlike other princesses who behaved wantonly, she certainly wouldn’t act so unwisely, so the previous comnts from the Magic Mirror rely displeased her without making her particularly angry.
Others are others, she is herself.
But the last bit of consolation from the Magic Mirror triggered her intense anger.
Were it not for the fact that the Magic Mirror couldn’t be destroyed, she might have grabbed the Hamr to strike it.
She stord out towards the door in a fury.
"William will arrive in Hansa this afternoon, and you’re responsible for welcoming him. Just leave the diplomatic negotiations to him without interference."
Sif walked towards the library.
The library at the Governor’s Mansion housed many collections from the old Hansa Kingdom, perhaps holding the answers about love.
After all, the Magic Mirror was just a broken mirror that knew nothing.
Upon leaving the Palace, she resud her identity as Count Sif.
The library director, not expecting a visit from the Count, greeted her very hospitably.
"Lord Count, why have you personally co? If there’s any book you want to read, just send a ssage through a servant and I’ll personally select books for you and have them delivered."
Seeing the director’s eager deanor, Sif softly asked, "Are you well-acquainted with the library’s collection?"
"Of course, the Hansa Library was founded in Magic New Calendar 917, expanding through three dynasties in the Hansa Kingdom and surviving through the devastations of war. It currently houses 170,000 volus, particularly rich in art books."
"Art books? Do you have... those on love?"
The director’s lips curled into an exaggerated smile, "Lord Count, the most celebrated the in art books is never heroism but love."
Sif’s eyes lit up.
The director indeed understood art.
Given that the Lord Count wanted to read about love, the director dared not delay.
He selected a collection of poetry, a collection of essays, an anthology of short stories, and the novels "The Woes of Young Vina" and "Blood-soaked Rose."
Sif didn’t return to the Palace, nor did she go to the main building of the Governor’s Mansion.
Feeling sowhat restless, she didn’t feel like working today.
Seeing her unease, the director thoughtfully suggested the third floor of the library for reading.
"Lord Count, it’s very quiet there, and you won’t be disturbed during your reading."
"Thank you."
Following the director’s guidance, Sif sat by a window, brewed a pot of tea, and in the aroma of the tea, opened the books to search for accounts of love in literary arts.
The poetry was beautiful, and she liked it a lot.
But poetry is like a heavily adorned woman — elegant but unreal.
She wasn’t looking for these.
The essays were similar.
Sif hesitated montarily over the other two novels and chose the one with a more specific na: "The Woes of Young Vina."
Young Vina was the daughter of a Hereditary Duke, of noble birth, well protected since childhood but rarely had the chance to interact with peers of the opposite sex.
With her father’s ticulous care, she hardly had any opportunity to speak much with young n.
Such a girl raised in that manner was absolutely pure.
This was Vina’s father’s obsession.
Indeed, she was pure, pure to the point of being naïve, Sif silently mocked in her heart.
Young Vina’s background was similar to hers, giving Sif more anticipation.
If Vina could find sweet love, so can she.
During an outing, Vina was rescued by a handso young man nad Bertie, and fell in love at first sight.
Then ca a wondrous yet unrealistic love story.
The novel was penned by the renowned Weimar Federation Literary Scholar, Faust.
Though the Odin People were less advanced in visual arts, they excelled in music and literature.
With elegant prose, the novel chronicled the love of a young boy and girl.
Vina and Bertie were ready to give everything for each other.
Even their lives.
Young Vina and young Bertie adventured together, watched stars back-to-back under the bright moonlight, confiding in each other.
However, when the young girl eagerly awaited Bertie’s confession, Bertie remorsefully admitted he already had soone he fancied, a childhood neighbor.
Their love was as beautiful as a dream, but when morning ca, the dream ended, and he had to return ho.
Sif’s heart stopped like the young Vina in the book.
A love that arrived suddenly and left even more abruptly.
Vina left Bertie angrily.
Since he loved another, she wouldn’t linger.
Ti passed quickly.
Vina’s father arranged a well-matched marriage for her with another young Duke.
Years went by and Vina’s affluent life was dull and unexciting.
Nostalgic for her adventurous days, she took a carriage under the guise of a journey to revisit those cherished mories.
In the place where she t Bertie long ago, she reminisced about the beautiful past and impulsively sought out Bertie.
She just wanted to see him once and see what kind of person he had fallen for.
But what she heard was devastating news.
Bertie was dead.
He never had a beloved partner.
After learning of her identity, Bertie’s uncle handed Vina, whose feelings were mixed, a letter Bertie had left behind.
In the letter, Bertie confessed his love to Vina.
He adored the beautiful and cheerful Vina but was aware of the gulf between commoners and nobility, choosing to leave silently so his love wouldn’t be tainted by the world.
There was no childhood sweetheart; he died a lonely boy.
Sif was moved to tears by the story of love separated by life and death, choking up several tis.
But after her tears dried, a sudden realization hit her.
While there is a gulf between nobility and commoners, it’s not impossible to bridge.
If Bertie had opted for a marriage where he joined her family, he could’ve married Vina, adopting her family’s surna.
Changing a surna might be disgraceful, but Bertie had none to begin with, so the issue was moot.
What fools, if they liked each other, why not spell it out?
Sif was about to reproach these fictional lovers when Roland suddenly ca to mind.
Indeed, many things can’t simply be clarified.
Vina was Bertie’s untouched love, preferring to let go rather than tarnish it with mundanity.
He longed for pure love over a compromising marriage.
Sif put the book down, sighed, and opened the second novel, "Blood-soaked Rose."
This book was not much different from the first.
Also featuring pure love between a young man and woman.
They t through battle and fought fiercely to protect each other.
When the girl lay in the boy’s arms, like a rose soaked in blood, she finally faced her true self.
Sadly, they had run out of ti.
"So why wait until near death to speak?"
Sif mumbled softly, suddenly speechless as she rembered last night.
She fully understood the heroine’s feelings.
So words are indeed hard to utter.
Last night, thinking death was near, she steeled herself to say sothing to Roland, only to be rescued.
Upon awakening, the mood beca entirely wrong, and she couldn’t find the words.
Sif had intended to find answers in books, but found a collection of mistakes instead.
So, what should she do?
Sif pondered for a long ti, feeling just as troubled as that rose-red young girl.
After an unknown while, she realized.
There is indeed a great divide between nobility and commoners, but it isn’t entirely impossible to bridge.
So, I’ll just wait for you at the finish line.
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