Novel & Cerita A Historical Fiction Book

In addition, she had filled the basket with plenty of tasty drinks that tasted like fruit juice. It was everything one could possibly want if they were going to lie on a blanket in the beautiful summer sun and read a book about elven history. I lay down on my stomach, placing the book in front of me. It was large and heavy. Just for fun, I flipped to the back—there were no fewer than four hundred and forty-nine pages in the book. And that was only volume one! I wondered how many volumes there were in total. I opened the big book and could smell the traces of time in it. All I hoped for was that it wouldn’t be too dry to read.

SHARON’S POV I never imagined I would step foot into the royal library for anything other than sneaking in to read fantasy novels I had no business touching. The irony wasn’t lost on me as I sat at the long mahogany table now, a stack of heavy history books in front of me, none of which had dragons, witches, or star-crossed lovers on the covers. The head historian, Elder Marcellus, cleared his throat for what felt like the hundredth time. The man was ancient, his white beard reached almost to his stomach, and he had the habit of adjusting his spectacles every two sentences even when they didn’t need adjusting.

Rhae slowly walked towards the bookshelf off to the side of the room and began skimming the titles. "Tales of Fae," Aynyra grinned, crossing her legs in the bed like a toddler. Rhae pulled the book off the shelf, examining the repeatedly broken spine and the clear wear and tear on the cloth-covered binding. "A children's book?" Rhae questioned peering at the title. Aynyra chuckled, "It's not a children's book, it's based on history. It's fact." Rhae walked over to the bed laughing, "It's myth Aynyra, don't tell me you believe in the Fae."

I looked at Zuriel, and quickly wrapped my arms around him, placing my head over his chest. He smiled and caressed my hair. I glanced at the set of books. They're a collection of Indian ancient and historical love stories from history and mythology. Not only that, there was a set of coffee mugs of different colors. "How do you know that I love Indian history, especially love stories in them?" I asked him, pulling away. That's a secret, "he winked at me."

She glanced down, silently noting that the book in my hands was upside down. I blushed, having not noticed myself, and put the book on the table. I had borrowed it from Leila in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts of escaping. But truth be told, I wasn’t much interested in books, especially not this thick tome on the royal history of Hescor. The only books that had ever captured my interest were the forbidden romance stories I used to find under her nanny’s pillow, filled with dirty language and obscenity. My nanny thought she had hidden them well, but Evelyn had easily discovered them, devouring them in secret whenever I could.

Maybe it was just a desperate attempt to feel useful. When I finished, I drIfted to the bookshelf near the fireplace. I scanned the tItles slowly, looking for somethIng light. Anything without mates, romance, or fated connections. The irony wasn’t lost on me, I was trapped in a twisted version of one of those stories. Only in mine, there was no love. No happy ending. Just guilt, betrayal, and aching confusion. I chose a hIstorical novel and curled up by the window. The cardIgan and fuzzy socks I wore kept the cold at bay, at least physically. But my thoughts wouldn’t quiet.

The name of a certain novel came inside of her mind— The Lady's Possessive Prince— and thinking about it, she found it funny how she had to dream about the novel now. The novel was quite popular amongst her workmates, and the reason she took interest in it was because of how the female lead had the same name to her— 'Seraphine'. Reading it, Seraphine got to learn how it took place in the western historical setting, and the era wasn't quite clear to her. The story centered around the female lead, 'Seraphine'. Like all the female lead, 'Seraphine' was kind and well-liked by most around her, and throughout the story, she gained love of more people.

It was in that, with the turn of pages of a book, I could lose myself between the pages and forget, even if just for a moment, the complex web of my life. Today opened like each of the rest days: the house was quiet, and I was looking for another book to pass the time with. I ran my fingers along the spines of all the books on the shelves, and one leather-bound volume seemed out of place. I pulled it out; it was a book about hybrids. Its spine was cracked and its pages were frayed from having been read so many times before. I went to the table of contents, and my eyes grew wide with chapters entitled, "History of Hybrids," "Powers and Abilities," and "Notable Hybrids in History."

"See you girls later." After zooming past the librarian, Gianna trudged between the massive book-filled shelves with the lingering hints of mustiness until she spotted a capitalized title of interest along Philipstown's history rank; COLDSPRING AS OF THE 1600s. She concentrated her weight on her toes as shortly as she reached the thick volumed book that looked worn out. Gianna comfortably settled in an isolated corner speculating on where to start. The impatient girl, seduced by laziness, decided to randomly flip through the black and white picture graced book when a set of bold letters snatched her scrutiny.

The Alpha has it. The first book had left its readers including me in a cliffhanger. I had always wanted to know what happened next on the journey of the main character. Actually it was not really about the world’s history, but it is just about the character travelling to different places in different times, discovering treasures, witnessing wars, anything that happened significantly on the year he had travelled on. And though it is a fictional story, it still has a touch of true world history in it, depending on where the character went and what time.