Chapter 5

In the capital of the Borus Empire, ‘Caldea,’ at a certain tavern…

This place, known for its cheap and delicious food alongside the dwarven specialty black beer, was highly popular among merchants.

One of the merchants seated at a table sighed deeply.

“Have you ever heard of a book called ‘Cinderella’?”

“If you haven’t heard of it by now, you don’t deserve to be a merchant! It’s practically a legendary tome!”

Lately, stories about this book had been spreading like wildfire throughout the southern regions.

The title ‘Cinderella’ was strange enough, but tales circulated as if it were a cursed magic book. Kids who read it reportedly cried in their sleep, calling out for it.

Desperate nobles even offered rewards, yet those who owned the book refused to sell no matter what.

“To get this book, they might as well declare war on me!”

So went the story of one noble who was pressured by another for the book.

“A noble family offered a contract with a merchant who could procure the book…”

As he recalled this, the merchant groaned and downed his mug of ale in frustration.

He regretted accepting the terms without thinking, underestimating the difficulty of obtaining just one book.

“Sell your daughter’s treasure?! Go away before I lock you up!”

Despite traveling to the Goldfull Valley region with money in hand after hearing rumors of the book’s location, he was swiftly turned away.

Even when he found someone with the book, they either outright refused or even attacked him.

“I’d sell my soul to the devil if only I could get my hands on this blasted fairytale book!”

Hearing this, another merchant drinking nearby leaned in conspiratorially.

“Not sure how reliable it is, but I heard something…even ‘that place’ has gotten involved.”

*

“But they aren’t making it anymore!”

“Master! Please, save me! If I return empty-handed, I’m ruined!”

I’m going insane.

After sending the ‘Cinderella’ fairy tale books to noble young ladies, mysterious visitors started showing up daily asking for more copies.

Foolishly agreeing last time due to greed, the money earned would suffice for living expenses for a while.

Back then, creating merely ten copies took nearly an entire week of nonstop work.

Meeting current demands from both nobles and merchants would require locking myself away for a month drawing illustrations.

‘There’s no way I’ll do that again. I finally have some free time.’

Though pitying the pleading merchant, accepting one request meant accepting them all—so it couldn’t be helped.

“Young Rupert, are you mocking our house?”

“Master, disappointing indeed. Even if he’s ‘just’ a merchant, rejecting our guild’s request feels insulting…”

Whether unique to the Borus Empire or the Sylvania continent as a whole, there existed a culture valuing honor above all else.

Accepting random requests without reason could provoke conflict.

Surely, burly knights would soon arrive, shouting:

“For the honor of our lord, come out and fight!”

Tossing white gloves or handkerchiefs onto the ground.

“Do you want to take on my father?”

Considering my frail frame versus hiring my still-vigorous father, I decided avoiding trouble altogether was best.

Treating everyone equally by refusing ensures fairness without inviting criticism.

*

Why are you here?

“Hello, I am Amelia Bluewell, the eldest daughter of the House of Duke Bluewell. Pleased to meet you.”

Everyone froze upon seeing the arrival of the eldest daughter of the prestigious Bluewell Dukedom.

The butlers and maids were stunned by the presence of someone higher-ranked than our own family.

Meanwhile, I, having transmigrated into this world as the youngest son of the imperial family, froze upon meeting the female protagonist of my story.

For different reasons, we all stopped moving simultaneously.

“Please, come this way.”

Collect yourself. Leaving a duchess waiting at the entrance is disgraceful.

With trembling hands, I managed to guide Amelia Bluewell into the mansion’s reception room.

“Would Eastern Ceylon tea be acceptable?”

Thankfully, she nodded slightly; it was all I had.

Once the butler left to prepare refreshments, an awkward silence filled the room between us.

‘Why did she come here?’

Though tempted to ask bluntly, I restrained myself until she finally broke the silence.

“Thank you for welcoming me despite my sudden visit.”

“No, we’re honored by the esteemed presence of Lady Bluewell.”

Inside, I wanted to shout: ‘Go away, demon!’

“The reason for my visit concerns a fairy tale called ‘Cinderella.’”

“What?”

Why would the daughter of a duchy visit a distant territory, risking scandal, just for a children’s book?

“Ever since my younger sister saw it, she refuses to eat properly and talks endlessly about Cinderella.”

Oh right, she has a younger sister!

*

There are two daughters in the House of Duke Bluewell.

The elder, 17-year-old Amelia Bluewell, famed for her dazzling beauty, drives neighboring noble sons wild with longing.

And five-year-old Evelyn Bluewell, the youngest child, adored by both her father and older sister.

Recently, Evelyn caused quite a crisis within the Bluewell household.

“Evelyn, why won’t you eat?”

“Because I don’t have Cinderella.”

“Evelyn, why won’t you leave your room?”

“Because I don’t have Cinderella!”

Had she fallen under some kind of curse?

Dealing with tantrums from children aged 5-7 is notoriously difficult—even the mighty Duke Bluewell was powerless.

Hoping the usually obedient older sister could intervene, Evelyn became unresponsive, acting like a member of some secret organization.

“Let me try to find and see what this book is about.”

Watching her chubby cheeks grow thin, Amelia finally decided to take action herself.

*

“In fact, I’ve seen the book firsthand—it’s truly something children adore.”

Amelia genuinely believed this.

She herself wanted a copy so much; the enchanting story and beautiful illustrations were irresistible.

“Thank you.”

Yet despite her compliments, the man simply sipped his tea dismissively, treating her as though unrelated.

‘Is this really the creator of such a beautiful story?’

‘Cinderella’ stood apart from typical children’s books filled with hero adventures or knightly tales, which rarely appealed to girls.

Instead, it told a fateful saga where the female protagonist overcame hardships to find true love—a narrative that resonated deeply.

‘The illustrations were breathtaking too. Without them, it wouldn’t have been so captivating.’

Realistic yet surreal, these drawings evoked imagination unlike ordinary portraits or murals.

Thus, Amelia expected the creator to be gentle and kind—but Rupert Somerset, second son of the Somerset Count and author of ‘Cinderella,’ was anything but.

Cold and aloof, his demeanor intrigued her instead.

“So, Lady Amelia’s request is to make another copy of ‘Cinderella,’ correct?”

“Yes, please, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Understood. I’ll send it to your house once completed. It was nice meeting you, Lady.”

Accustomed to male admiration, Amelia found this rigid treatment refreshing.

“Thank you for accommodating my unreasonable request. I will repay you somehow.”

With a curt nod, he departed, leaving Amelia with a lingering impression.

*

“Phew…”

Exiting the reception room, I exhaled deeply.

Of all people, I had unexpectedly encountered the second most dangerous character threatening my peaceful life in this other world.

Throughout our conversation, I avoided eye contact and kept things brief.

Though promising to create the book was unavoidable, it couldn’t be helped.

The House of Duke Bluewell—the protagonist’s family and one of only three duchies in the Borus Empire.

Given that the other two duchies were branches of the royal family, the Bluewells ranked as the most perilous noble house next to the imperial family.

‘Refusing them? That’d be suicidal.’

To minimize impact, I responded cautiously.

What could possibly happen from one meeting? Any ensuing drama must surely stem from the Monkey’s Paw’s meddling.