The Crimson Heiress

world tired of noise, amidst the city’s clamor and the streets’ panting… Ella had her sacred ritual: to escape. To flee the chaos of reality into the silence of books. She searched the shelves for paper to cradle her heart, For a story like hers, or one that would heal a part she hadn’t yet named. She entered the library like one returning to an old embrace. The old man glanced at her with a look tinged with surprise, as if time had suddenly reversed: “It’s been a long time…” He said, voice cracked by waiting. “I thought you’d lost your passion, my little one.” Ella smiled shyly and softly said, “How could I lose it… when I’m still searching for the treasure?” The old man laughed, but this time his laugh was not sarcastic… But filled with something like a legacy. He approached slowly and said, “Let me take you somewhere different… A place that resembles your soul.” He looked around as if to make sure no one could hear, Then whispered: “This journey… is unfinished. My grandmother gave it to me before she left, And now… I give it to you. Because I know… you will complete it.” He moved toward the upper bookshelf. Brought a wooden ladder, Climbed it as if his steps carried memories, And moved a shelf everyone thought was fixed… Behind it… A hidden wall with a small gap just the size of a book. He carefully reached in, And pulled out a book wrapped in a layer of time, Its scent like unread letters. He sat opposite her and placed it before her gently. “Read carefully… before you take the first step.” He said, his eyes filled with the longing of someone who can no longer travel. Ella embraced the book as if it were her second heart, Unaware… That the book was not a novel, But a gateway. And in the evening… After a light dinner and warm coffee, She sat reading, unaware that life as she knew it, Was about to change forever. She opened the book… and found the first sentence saying: "Where would you like to begin your journey? – In the corridors of history? – In the heart of fantasy? – Or in the story of the three princes?" Scene: Quiet night, a faint coffee cup in her hand, the old book on her lap, exuding the scent of dust and nostalgia. So many names… So many stories… As if a whole world was placed in her hands, She slowly closed the book and shut her eyes. "Where do I begin?" She whispered to herself, as if afraid the stories might hear her. Then she smiled boldly and mischievously: "I’ll let my heart choose, I’ll open the book at random… And wherever my hand lands, my journey begins." Her trembling fingers stretched out… The book opened to a page titled: "My Innocent Girl" She read the first sentence in a nearly hushed voice: "Dear adventurer… I start the story, but the ending is yours." Her eyes widened. "Oh, this is real excitement!" She said happily and began to read. Summary of the story inside the book: Three princes, A vast palace, A small rose growing amidst cold tiles… She is "Nara," an innocent girl, gentle as a summer breeze, Speaking shyly, and walking like songs on her fingertips. As for "Minister Jack," He is the handsome, stern young man, the smartest among the kingdom’s men, Loving order and hating chaos… And his kingdom entrusted him with caring for the three princes. In another corner… Mira, the rich merchant’s daughter, a cunning girl, Falling in love with the blonde prince "Sam," But the prince doesn’t see her, His eyes always… on Nara. Every trap Mira set, She fell into herself, And every conspiracy woven with threads of envy… Made Nara purer in Sam’s eyes. Minister Jack grew tired of Mira’s chapters, Of her distractions, of her unroyal behaviors, And in a moment of anger… He banished Mira out of the country. But, at the end of the page… a mysterious line: Dear adventurer… choose who you will be. Back to Ella, who read attentively, then tilted her head laughing: “Who will I be? The innocent girl?! No, no, that’s impossible… Cold, shy, waiting for a prince to save her? Me?! I’m the one who pulls others to safety! These are children’s stories… old man, what kind of book did you give me?!” She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning Minister Jack’s lines. “The minister… I like him! The only one who sees everything, controls the story without being the hero. If I were Mira… I would have loved him.” She laughed at herself, then shook her head: “Oh, Ella… it’s just a novel… nothing more!” But suddenly… The page trembled. The letters faded, began to ripple as if water drops evaporating. “Wha… what’s happening?!” Ella screamed, The letters melted, pages disappeared, A bright light, then… Darkness.... A moment of silence followed… Then another light… But not the lamp’s glow above her bed. Rather… the light of a new day, in a world unlike this one. She looked around… her eyes widening. “Did I fall asleep… while reading?” She whispered to herself, trying to comprehend what was happening. But this was not the usual dream she saw… No bed, no book, no room… But another world, resembling the legends she used to read as a child. She raised her eyes in astonishment, Stood on tiptoe, Gazed at the place, And her breath caught. A palace… unlike any other. Its walls were not made of stone, But of glass reflecting the sky, as if the sky were trapped inside. Its ceiling sparkled, studded with jewels that moved as if they were alive. The stairs were spiral-shaped, Suspended in the air, Not touching the ground… As if made for walking on magic. Silver columns, Entwined with threads of light, Shivering as if playing music not heard, but felt. In the courtyard, A fountain rose endlessly, Each drop carried a different color, Falling as crystal roses, Then melting and returning clear as before. And the air? A blend of lavender’s scent and warm rosemary, Carrying whispers, As if the palace itself was telling an endless story. Ella looked at her dress, A Damascene blue gown, leaning toward black, Embroidered with silver threads weaving a strange map on her body. And her hair? Not as she knew it… But carefully braided, Adorned with rings of gold and ruby. She smiled, a curious tear gleaming in her eye: “What a magical dream…!” Then she glimpsed her shadow on the wall… And froze. The shadow… was not Ella’s shadow. It was taller… More feminine… And more arrogant. She ran to the nearest mirror, Looked… recoiled. “No… this is not my face"