uh oh i like manga now

An elderly man with gray hair and wrinkles that adorned his pale face, stepping out of the heavy mahogany doors of the library, pressed a hand to his chest in shock, a chest covered by a richly decorated doublet.

"Good heavens!" the old man called after the boy. "Please slow down! We're not at war."

"Forgive me, my lord!" the lordling called over his shoulder, a broad grin on his pale face that was a testament to his noble lineage. The common folk had more sun-tanned skin than the nobility of these days.

"Where are you headed, anyway?" the old man called after him, his raspy voice filled with curiosity. Life at the royal court was rather monotonous most days, so it was a welcome change to see the lively spirit of the young boy, even if he was a bit unusual. He had only ever seen this unbridled joy of life in the princess; a pure, gentle soul.

The boy continued running through the high halls and pushed open the door leading out to the lands surrounding the castle with his shoulder, causing a few small items to fall from his arms and crash to the floor. Undeterred by this minor loss, he ran out onto green meadows and towards the woods that surrounded the region like a natural bulwark. One of the parchments he had tucked under his arm, as if protecting it with his life, came loose and floated down on the grass with the gentle summer breeze. He didn't notice. He already had his goal in sight and ran towards it without looking back.

But while he didn't see the hastily scribbled parchment fall onto the golden-hued grass, another person did. High up in one of the stone towers, a young woman sat on the cushion-strewn bench in front of the stained-glass window. It was richly decorated with small floral patterns, dragons, and griffins, but the glass wasn't tinted like that in the village churches you'd visited with your mother.

A soft sigh escaped your rosy lips as your gaze followed the young man hurrying by. He reminded you of a bird, free and unburdened by the weight of courtly duties. Where was he rushing off to with all that stuff in his arms?

The sudden call of your name made you start, and you tore your gaze away from the window and looked back into the room where your sewing teacher— an older, plump woman— sat on a soft cushion, looking up at you. Beside her, on three other cushions, sat your closest friends and ladies-in-waiting: Cassandra, Margaret, and Elizabeth. Each of them had a scrap of fabric on their laps, which they had been working on with needle and thread. Some of the works were beautiful, and the stitches were masterfully executed. Cassandra, in particular, had a talent for sewing and embellishing dresses.

You looked down at the fabric you had been holding in your delicate hands. Your work wasn't bad, and it was a far cry from your early days when Lady Adelheid began tutoring you at the behest of your father, the King, but it wasn't perfect. Your stitches were shaky, your designs unoriginal, and your dove looked more like a duck, the way its beak was shaped. You would much rather be out in the gardens, visiting the horses in the stables, or sitting on the grass with a book, listening to the birds singing in the gentle summer breeze.

Instead, you were trapped in a stuffy room, forced to practice the same stitches over and over again until they were perfect. It was routine for you, and you could have it so much worse, yet sometimes you wished you had just a little more freedom. Because of your status and your family, you had more freedom than most other ladies of the court or women of the common folk, but the laces of the corset that constricted your life were tight and sometimes even suffocating.

"My Lady, are you not feeling well?" Margaret asked you, her eyes wide with worry. Her voice was as gentle as a lover's touch. Most of the time, she was the kindest person you knew, but you also knew about her hidden sides. Once a week, you met in your chambers in the evening and told each other everything you had heard in the past seven days. From court rumors and secret desires to forbidden gossip, the four of you talked about everything.

"I think I need some fresh air," you finally replied. Your words were half honest, but secretly you were thinking about the boy you had watched from the window. He had piqued your curiosity, and you suspected you would find him if you wandered into the gardens now.

"Shall we accompany you?" Cassandra asked, already laying the fabric aside, ready to join you, even though she loved sewing.

You quickly shook your head, for you wanted to search for the boy alone. Without your ladies-in-waiting, without your sworn knight at your side, who was keeping watch outside the door, and without eyes constantly on you. It was actually forbidden for you to be alone with a man, but how bad could it be? Without your knight and ladies-in-waiting, he probably wouldn't even know who you were. Your attire today was quite ordinary for a princess, since there was no banquet or other courtly duty on the agenda.

“No, thank you. I need to clear my head. Please, stay here. Don’t let my absence bother you. I’ll come back,” you told them before rising from your bench by the window and smoothing your dress with your hands to remove the wrinkles from the light fabric. Even though it was summer, every inch of your skin had to be covered except for your hands and face. Some days you became so unbearably hot that you sometimes went without your chemise or stockings. Unthinkable for some, but you hid it well.

Your ladies and your sewing teacher all stood up and gave you a polite curtsy as you walked past them to the door. Your fingers grasped the handle, and you pushed open the heavy wooden door to be greeted by your sworn protector. The man was at least twenty summers older than you, his face weathered, and he walked with a limp.

“Is your lesson over already?” he asked you, a knowing glint in his eyes that, despite his age, still shone as brightly as the stars of the night you loved to gaze at.

"I just need to get some fresh air. It's gotten so stuffy in this room," you told him with a gentle smile.

"That's probably because of the awful perfume you all spray on your skin," he retorted. It was meant to be a joke, but it didn't make you laugh, even though he meant well.

"Don't judge our customs, Ser. A little perfume might do you some good," you said, a little dig that you only half meant seriously. Your protector was like a father to you, but even you had to admit that he wasn't the friendliest companion one would want to be around.

"Princess!" He laughed and shook his head, making his heavy iron armor rattle. It had saved his life several times and had been with him through mud, blood, and death, but he was content to wear it now only for your protection. He had sworn an oath to your father to protect you with his life, and he would keep it.

"Rest, Ser. I'm just going for a walk in the gardens. I know my way around there," you tried to persuade him. You could, of course, use your authority and make him let you go alone, but that wasn't like you. You didn't want to give orders to those close to you. They were your companions, not your subjects.

"I understand that," he replied. "Very well. Go on your walk, Princess. But I'll come for you in an hour if you haven't returned by then. Father Gregory awaits your confession."

"Thank you, Ser." You gave him another smile before turning and walking down the long corridor of the castle you called home. Lords, ladies, servants, and knights greeted you as you passed, but none stopped you. You could go wherever you wanted, and that happened to be the gardens where you hoped to find the young man you had seen disappear there a moment ago.

The golden summer sun, which stood high in the cloudless sky, shone down upon you and enveloped you in its warmth as you wandered through the ripe grass. In the sky, you saw a pair of doves performing a loving dance, while in the distance, a willow tree swayed in the breeze, its branches and leaves moving gracefully, as if in a play.

The hem of your dress slipped across the ground, and a sudden rustling made you look down in surprise. Your gaze had been sweeping across the landscape, searching for the unknown boy who had piqued your curiosity when he had run so swiftly across the meadows, as if being pursued. Beneath your shoe lay a single sheet of parchment. You knelt down and carefully picked it up to examine it more closely. The writing, hastily scribbled in dark ink, spoke of inventions, the stars, and strange sequences of numbers that you recognized as mathematics. You understood the words, but the numbers were a mystery.

You looked up, letting your watchful eyes scan the greenery once more, hoping to find a clue to the young man's whereabouts. And indeed— behind the swaying leaves of the willow tree, you could see movement. A dark coat stood out against the surrounding green, accentuated by black curls on the head.

A small smile played on your lips as you stood up and strode purposefully toward the wondrous tree, still clutching the parchment between your slender fingers. It would provide a good opening for conversation. Perhaps he could explain the strange numbers to you? You had never truly understood them.

Your curiosity only grew as you came closer and stepped into the center of the willow tree where he stood, a place where you were cut off from the rest of the world, for the tree's branches acted almost like a curtain around you. An escape from the life that so often threatened to suffocate you.

Before you, in the tree's center, stood the young man beside some kind of contraption. It stood on two legs and supported a long tube that pointed toward the sky. He made small adjustments to the side with his fingers, his eyes pressed against the end of the metal tube. He didn't seem to notice you; he was completely lost in his own world of science and progress.

"You have lost something, my lord," you greeted him, at which his slender shoulders flinched, and he looked up at you with wide eyes. You stood nearby with a smile, holding the lost page of his work in your hand, speaking with such kindness in your voice that it took his breath away for a moment.

"I just— Thank you," he finally said, confused. His voice made your heart leap. It was neither too high nor too low, but had a slightly husky tone to it that you liked. His skin was as pale as the moonlight in the dead of night, his hair wild and uncombed, and his eyes reminded you of the many times you had preferred sitting by the window to gaze at the night sky rather than sleeping. They held the same beauty within them. His lips were thin, yet they warmed your cheeks, and his features were as sharp as the blades of the knights who rested in the armory. He was breathtakingly handsome.

"What kind of device are you building there?" you asked him curiously, nodding at the invention that stood beside him.

He gratefully accepted the parchment he had dropped from you and looked back at his own creation, a surge of pride washing over him. He had worked on nothing else for the past few weeks and couldn't wait to test it tonight when the stars started appearing in the dark.

He just hadn't expected to have to explain it to a lady. Let alone one as lovely as you. He didn't know who you were, but he could hardly tear his eyes away. There was something about you that drew him in almost magically. A warmth that felt as if he were wrapping a blanket around his own shoulders.

"Are you well-read, my lady?" he asked you without answering your question first. He would have to go into too much detail to explain everything, but he could begin simple. Not everyone was open to science, and he had to be careful how much he revealed about himself.

You nodded, your smile widening slightly. There was something about him that captivated you. You loved listening to his voice, for it sounded like the song of a magpie— your favorite bird of all the ones you knew.

"Yes, I am. I have access to the royal library. Reading is a passion of mine."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, but instead of mocking the fact that a woman could read, he gently took your hand and drew you closer to his invention. He believed that everyone should possess the art of reading. It would advance the world so much and prevent many a pointless conflict. Words could resolve so much more than mere force.

“I call it a telescope. With it, we’ll be able to examine the starry sky more closely and explore its secrets,” the dark-haired boy explained to you, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement, a spark that was contagious and drew you in.

“Observe the stars? Thank God, and blessed be you, because that’s always been my greatest wish!” you confessed honestly, wrapping your hands around his arm and pulling him closer against your side.

He swallowed and let his gaze travel over your profile. You were a work of art. Never in his life had a woman awakened this feeling inside of him. This warmth that spread through his chest and settled there like a virus in a sick person. Soon it would infect not only his body but also his mind, and then he would be utterly lost.

“It’s a gift for the princess,” he told you gently. “My father, my sweet sister, and I recently arrived at court, and I was tasked with making her a gift. I heard the stars were her dearest love, and I wanted to give her a present that would bring her even closer to them.”

You blinked, your long eyelashes kissing the apple of your cheek, as you gazed at him with widened eyes. You didn't know him at all, and he couldn't possibly know who you were, but this was probably the most romantic thing you had ever experienced. Romance was something you dreamed of, but never believed you would actually have. Your destiny had always been to marry an older lord to improve the kingdom's political standing. You had no siblings, which is why your father had to secure his successor through marriage. As a girl, you couldn't become queen. That was the law. Your future husband would be king, and you queen consort. But in that moment, you saw salvation. You saw a future you actually liked.

“What is your name?” you asked him, your voice soft and trembling slightly at the edges.

“Isaac,” the young inventor answered sincerely. “My name is Isaac Night.”

“Isaac…” you whispered, testing his name on your tongue, and deep down you could feel that this meeting today was no coincidence. Or at least, it wouldn’t be the only time you met.

Isaac was rarely speechless. He was often silent— his father’s angry outbursts often silenced him— but he never felt as if his mouth were dry and he lacked the words. But the sound of his name from your lips sealed his fate. He didn’t know who you were, but he knew for sure that he wanted to. He wanted to study you, unravel you, and give you the world. By God, he felt like his sister. She was a hopeless romantic who spent every minute of her day wondering when she would be courted. He wanted to woo you. But how did that work? He knew every letter of the alphabet, knew every number and could calculate with them; he was able to put his fantasies on paper and from paper into reality, but how could he woo such a beautiful woman as yourself?

"May I also know your name?" he asked you softly, looking down at your flawless face. You were still pressed close to his side, your hands still holding his arm, and he could feel the heat growing stronger and stronger within his chest.

You told him your name, though you left out your title. You didn't want him to know who you really were yet, because then he would surely behave differently if he knew that you were actually the princess. No, you were enjoying this conversation with him right now, and you wanted him to continue talking to you as if there were no other worries in the world. Only his inventions, the leaves of the tree around you, and the words you exchanged.

A sudden crack from the side drew his attention away from you, a gust of wind causing the telescope's legs to wobble. But before the metal structure could topple, he raised his right hand, and it didn't fall. Instead, it hovered in mid-air before he gently placed it back in position without touching it once.

Your lips parted in shock as you realized what just occurred and what that meant: "You're one of them. Those magicians."

He scoffed in return and let his right hand sink back to his side, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his handsome features. "I wouldn't exactly call it magic. It's more of a talent some people are born with and others aren't."

In truth, Isaac was terrified that you would judge him for who he was. These abilities he was born with were considered by many to be unnatural. The Church, in particular, labeled his nature as devilry or demonry. Others called it witchcraft. But for him, it wasn't a curse; it was a talent he gladly used and didn't want to hide, as it helped him bring his inventions to life. They helped him accomplish great things. That's why he didn't understand why so many were against it and why his father forced him to conceal his talents. Furthermore, there were many more, and far more dangerous, individuals born with abilities. There were people who retreated to the forest at the end of each month, when the moon shone down onto the earth, to roam the night as wolves. There were people who fed on the blood of others, breathtakingly beautiful women who swam the seas and enchanted sailors with their song, only to drag them to their doom, and much more. Apparently, there are also unfortunate souls born without faces. The poor things.

“I find it fascinating,” Night suddenly heard your gentle voice say, and he could feel the tension drain from his shoulders as he breathed a sigh of relief. You were an open person. You wouldn't judge him for this.

“Yes?” he questioned as he slowly walked over to his telescope to set it more properly on the ground so that no more gusts of wind would knock it over. He wanted to test it tonight so he could give it to the princess tomorrow when he finally met her.

“I am not one of you, yet I know my father hates you. He is very religious, and our bishop whispers words in his ear, leading him to condemn innocent people to death, even though they have nothing to do with who they are. My mother— may God rest her soul— was different. Many called her crazy and feared she was possessed by demons. She always told me she could see into the future. She always saw these wonderful things that were yet to come. She taught me that there is no difference between us. Your gifts are a blessing,” you confessed to him honestly, carefully folding your hands in front of the skort of your dress.

Your mother had been a gentle soul, plagued by visions she didn't understand, but which always filled her with joy. You would never forget her last words. She told you that the greatest happiness in the world would one day find you and that the wait would be worth it. Since then, you've been waiting for this happiness, and even though it hasn't yet arrived, you would continue to wait, because she was always right. Why would she lie to you?

"You are a gift, My Lady. I have never met anyone who thinks like you," the young lord told you in a gentle voice so uncharacteristic of him. His younger sister thought he was too brooding and should be kinder to everyone else.

"I, too, have never been fortunate enough to meet someone like you," you replied honestly. You didn't want to admit it to yourself so quickly, but you were quite taken with him. The warmth in your heart, the understanding between you, and your differences filled you with a sense of wonder.

You were about to add something when you were suddenly interrupted by a loud cry from afar—"Princess! Princess, where are you? The chapel is waiting!"

A surprised gasp escaped you, and you quickly turned toward the voice of your faithful protector, who was searching for you in the distance. You could see his dark suit of armor, reflecting the setting sun, gliding down the meadows. It wouldn't be good if he saw you talking to Isaac alone. The very fact that you were doing so was unseemly of you. But, oh, if you didn't enjoy this conversation…

“I have to go,” you quickly informed Isaac, at which point he frowned in confusion.

“You? Why? He's looking for Her Grace,” he asked, and you couldn't help but smile. Such a clever young man, and yet he hadn't noticed what had been right in front of him the whole time.

“Well, this must shock you, but I am the princess he's looking for,” you replied, smiling as you cautiously took steps backward. The fabric of your dress stood out against the surrounding greenery, and it probably wouldn't be long before the knight spotted you among the swaying willow leaves. Even though he was older, he still had very sharp eyes.

Night blinked at you for several seconds before looking down at his telescope, which stood beside him. “I— I haven’t had a chance to test it yet, but perhaps you’d like to take it with you right away? I built it for you. I hope you like it.”

You simply shook your head, even though you were very curious about what exactly this invention could show you and how it worked. He said it could bring the stars closer, but you didn’t understand how that could be possible.

“I like it very much, Isaac. Perhaps you could show it to me tomorrow evening? I think my father has planned a banquet where we can get to know each other better. To celebrate your family’s arrival at court,” you suggested kindly, and you so desperately hoped he would agree. You wanted to see him again and be as close to him as you were right now.

He nodded vigorously, which made his dark curls bounce. He didn’t know what else to say or do. He should have known better. The fact that you were well-read, the way you stood and spoke, and even your dress and hair ornaments alone should have been enough to tell him your social standing. Not to mention your beauty. How had he not noticed? Now he'd made a fool of himself in front of you. Damn it.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good day, Isaac," you told him, before quickly turning and disappearing among the branches swaying in the gentle summer breeze to join your knight.

Your cheeks were flushed as you hurried toward the castle wall, and you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. You liked him. You were already looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

You were wondering… just what did the future hold for you?

The dividers were made by @uzmacchiato !

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