Chapter 1

Rosella was an ordinary girl who lived in the tiny village of Faraway.

She hated herself.

She was the kind of girl who avoided mirrors and no longer believed love was meant for people like her. In her eyes, life was only kind to the beautiful. Those born plain would grow old alone before rotting beneath the village cemetery, just like Aunt Den.

The old woman had spent her entire life claiming she was a prince's beloved. She disappeared into her fantasies until the day she died.

Rosella refused to end up like that.

She might not be pretty, but she would never waste her life chasing impossible dreams. Neither would she become the wife of some wrinkled old farmer and spend the rest of her days raising children who couldn't even read.

She was smarter than that.

She understood that a woman's life didn't have to revolve around marriage.

She also knew better than to believe that a girl with unruly curls, freckles scattered across her face, and mud-caked shoes could ever make a young man fall in love with her.

The boys in the village called her the filthy ugly girl.

Every day she cleaned livestock pens until she smelled of manure and never had the chance to tame her wild hair.

One day, this miserable life would end.

She would work, save every coin she could, and run away from this wretched village. She would leave behind the aunt who had treated her like a servant ever since her parents died. Leave behind the stench of animal waste. Leave behind Faraway.

She would join a travelling carnival as a dancer. She wanted to see the world. To visit places she'd only read about. To learn everything beyond the borders of her tiny village.

The old books she'd rescued from rubbish heaps spoke of magnificent kingdoms, endless seas, and lands more beautiful than imagination itself. Rosella believed every word. Every single day, she practised dancing. Her feet moved to melodies only she could hear as she twirled along narrow village paths. Sometimes she slipped into the forest at dusk, where no one could laugh at her.

She couldn't wait.

The moment the travelling carnival arrived in Faraway...

...she would leave without so much as a single farewell letter.

Goodbye, Faraway.

Goodbye, Uncle.

Goodbye, Aunt.

The carnival was her only hope.

Her one-way ticket out of this forgotten place.

That afternoon, Rosella practised as usual. She whistled a cheerful tune while her body flowed gracefully through each step.

I'll become a dancer.

"I knew it! Look at the ugly girl!" A boy's voice echoed from behind a tree.

"What do you think she's doing?" another laughed.

"Hmm... dancing?"

The boys burst into laughter. "You seriously think you can become a dancer?"

"Who would ever pay to watch an ugly girl like you perform?"

Their laughter echoed through the trees. Rosella clenched her tattered dress in both fists. Before the tears could fall, she turned and ran deeper into the forest. She didn't stop until something unusual caught her eye. A gigantic tree stood before her.

Or rather...

It looked like a house built inside one.

There was a wooden door.

Windows. Stacks of books visible through the glass. More books lay piled neatly outside beneath the branches. Above the entrance hung a wooden sign.

CLOVER BOOKSTORE

Rosella stepped closer.

One weathered book rested on a small table by the door. She picked it up before knocking gently.

Ding.

A tiny brass bell chimed as she pushed the door open. Only the sound of her worn shoes creaking against the wooden floor filled the silence.

Her eyes widened.

She had never seen so many books in her life.

Shelves stretched upward as far as she could see, packed with books of every colour and size. Others were stacked into towering piles that reached almost to the ceiling.

She reached for one dusty shelf.

"Cough! Cough!"

Dust filled the air, making her choke.

"My goodness!"

A cheerful voice rang out from another room.

"I'm terribly sorry, dear! It's been ages since I had a visitor, and the first thing I do is make my guest choke on dust!"

An elderly man hurried over. Rosella stared. He was barely as tall as her waist.

His fluffy white hair matched his enormous moustache, and he wore a green knit cap along with round spectacles hanging from a silver chain around his neck.

"H-Hello..." Rosella greeted awkwardly.

"Do you own this shop?"

"Naturally!"

The little old man spread his arms dramatically.

"My name is Clover!"

"And yours?"

"Rosella."

His face lit up.

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful young lady!"

Rosella lowered her gaze.

"I don't think I'm beautiful."

Clover blinked.

"Nonsense! Every girl is beautiful."

"I appreciate you saying that," Rosella replied softly, "but no one else thinks so."

She gestured toward herself.

"Look at me. My hair's always a mess. My face is covered in freckles. My clothes are worn out..."

She hesitated.

"...and I smell like livestock."

Clover sniffed the air exaggeratedly.

"Hmm... perhaps there is a tiny unpleasant smell."

He smiled.

"But that's exactly why baths were invented."

Rosella couldn't help laughing. As Clover busied himself straightening books, her attention drifted toward the window. Outside, several stacks of books sat beneath the open sky.

"Don't they get ruined?" she asked. "By the rain or the sun?"

Clover chuckled proudly.

"My books are the finest in the world."

"They'll never be damaged."

"I see..."

Rosella tilted her head.

"But what about thieves?"

"Wouldn't someone steal the books outside?"

Clover laughed again.

"My dear..."

"People who truly love books never steal them."

Rosella laughed with him. "I suppose you're right."

She looked around once more. "Why did you build your bookstore in the middle of a forest?"

"Wouldn't the village be better?"

She sighed.

"Although... hardly anyone there likes reading."

"They're perfectly content farming, raising livestock, and bringing children into the world without ever wanting to learn anything."

"Oh, very few people come here," Clover admitted. "But this shop exists for people like you."

He picked up a book and offered it to her. "Tell me, Rosella..."

"Do you enjoy reading?"

She accepted the book carefully. "I do."

"It's because of books that I know there's a world far greater than Faraway."

Her eyes fell to the title.

THE TRAVELLING CARNIVAL & THE SHADOW BANDIT

Her breath caught.

A carnival.

Exactly what she'd been dreaming about. If she could join one... ...she could travel across the entire kingdom. She looked back at Clover. Perhaps it was only her imagination.

Yet somehow...

...the book seemed to shimmer with an almost magical pull.

Clover simply smiled.

"If you'd like to read it," he said gently, "it's yours."

"I'd love to."

Rosella searched every pocket she had. Nothing. Only a safety pin. A loose button. And a worn handkerchief.

"But... I don't have any money."

"If you let me go home first, I'll come back with enough to pay for it."

"Oh, don't worry about that."

Clover closed the ledger he'd been holding.

"It's been such a long time since I had a friend."

"Consider it a gift."

"No, I can't accept that!"

"I promise I'll repay you. Just let me..."

"My dear."

Clover interrupted with a warm smile. "Opportunities don't always come twice."

"If you leave to fetch your money..."

"...there's no guarantee you'll ever find this shop again."

Rosella frowned. She didn't understand what he meant. Clover gently ushered her toward the door.

"Now hurry home."

"It's nearly dark."

"The forest isn't safe after sunset."

"W-Wait!"

"Mr. Clover!"

She spun around. The bookstore...

...was gone.

The enormous tree had become nothing more than an ordinary oak. No windows. No door. No books. No tiny old bookseller.

"CLOVER!"

Rosella shouted. Only the chirping of crickets answered her. Cold wind rustled through the trees as darkness settled over the forest. Clutching the book tightly against her chest...

Rosella hurried home.