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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.
The sky was brilliantly clear that morning as the wagons rumbled along the red dirt road.After a quick breakfast, the members of the Happy Carnival packed up camp without delay. They still had several days' journey ahead before reaching the next town.Rosella now rode in the third wagon, the one under Rowan's charge.Seated beside him at the reins, she chatted away without pause. The two laughed so often that Rowan's unmistakable, booming laughter carried all the way to the wagons in front."What on earth are they talking about?" Issac grumbled, knitting his brows.Sahila laughed."Ro's simply that much fun to be around."When night fell, the troupe made camp once again.They hunted for game and gathered whatever edible plants the forest had to offer. After three days on the road, Rosella and Rowan had become nearly inseparable. Wherever one went, the other was rarely far behind.Today was no different.Rosella had already slung a woven basket over her arm, ready to follow Rowan into
Madam Helen drew deeply on her cigar, the smoke escaping in a slow, weary breath. Her eyes remained shut, her brow knitted with exhaustion. She hadn't slept a wink. All night long, she'd waited for news of the girl who had worked beside her for the past three years.Sebastian returned first, his expression dark enough to tell the story on its own.Rosella followed close behind. Her eyes were swollen, still red from crying over their failure to bring Isabella back. Madam Helen didn't need an explanation. One glance at their faces was enough. Isabella was gone."I see..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "So she isn't coming back."Though Rosella had only known Madam Helen for a short time, she had already come to understand the woman. She took in abandoned girls, gave them honest work, a roof over their heads, and a place where they could finally feel safe."She will come back," Rosella said firmly.Madam Helen lifted her eyes to the girl. "No one ever comes back, child.
Sebastian glared at the books with barely concealed frustration. Clover was still handing out his enchanted books.It was a disaster waiting to happen.His foot tapped impatiently against the wooden floor as he rested his chin on one hand, deep in thought. Ever since explaining what had happened to his mother, countless worries had begun flooding his mind.This wasn't the first time Sebastian had encountered someone from another world. They were rare. But every one of them had changed this world in ways no one could ignore."You shouldn't be here."His voice was firm. "You have to go back to where you came from.""What?!"Rosella shook her head vigorously. "No!""If that's the case..." Sebastian strode toward the table."...then get rid of those books."Rosella snatched both books into her arms before he could touch them."They're mine!""You can't just throw them away!""Did you not hear a single word I just said?!""I'M NOT GOING BACK!"Rosella shouted. "No matter what happens...""
The next morning, Rosella wandered through the bustling city marketplace with a woven basket swinging lightly from one arm.In her other hand was a neatly folded shopping list. Madam Helen had entrusted her with a small pouch of coins and sent her out to buy the ingredients the tavern needed.Rosella couldn't help smiling. She skipped lightly through the crowded streets, humming a cheerful tune beneath her breath. Her skirt swayed gracefully with every buoyant step. Earlier that morning, Isabella had tied her silver curls into a neat ponytail. She absolutely adored styling other people's hair."Coffee beans..."Rosella murmured, glancing from one side of the street to the other."Where's the coffee bean shop?"She had already reached the end of the alley without finding it. The apple seller had sworn the shop was somewhere around here. Yet there was nothing in sight. Only a few stray cats rummaging through overflowing rubbish bins.The buildings lining the narrow alley were old, weath
"Ro?"A girl with chestnut-brown hair and warm hazel eyes called out to her.Rosella looked up only briefly before returning her attention to the book in her hands. She thought the book had vanished. But suddenly it comes back to her in the next morning. Rosella curly hair had been tied into a loose ponytail to keep it from falling into her face while she worked at the tavern.Business was slow that afternoon.She had claimed her favourite seat by the window, quietly reading the book Clover had given her.Outside, Madam Helen lounged in the courtyard, leisurely puffing on one of her cigars as she watched people wander past the tavern.The girl who had called her was Isabella.She was another waitress who worked for Madam Helen and had been at the tavern for nearly three years. An orphan with nowhere else to go, Isabella had been taken in by Madam Helen when she was younger.Now the two girls shared the room upstairs.It had been a week since Rosella arrived in this strange new land.
There were countless kinds of books in the world.One of them told stories about just how vast the world truly was. Beyond the forest lay endless salt seas stretching so far that no one could see where they ended. There were scorching deserts where nothing but sand lived, sprawling grasslands that rolled beyond the horizon, and mountains so tall they seemed to touch the heavens.Then there was frozen rain that drifted gently from the sky.People called it snow.Other books spoke of fairy tales filled with mythical creatures, ancient legends, and daring adventures. Some told romantic stories of handsome princes and beautiful princesses whose love conquered every obstacle.Rosella let out a quiet sigh.She was sixteen years old, yet she had no idea what love was.Back in Faraway, every girl who came of age simply married a farmer or a shepherd before spending the rest of her life raising children.The village boys handed flowers to the girls they thought were pretty, drowning them in sy







