Independence Is A Good Look On Her Novel Novels & Stories

The weak would break under pressure, the strong would submit if they understood their place, and the clever might try to hide their sparks of defiance, though even sparks could be traced if one knew where to look. My attention found her almost immediately. Nova. She stood slightly apart, shoulders squared, eyes bright, assessing, calculating. Unlike the others, she did not shrink or avert her gaze. She did not bend her head in instinctive submission. She observed. She analyzed. And in that observation, in the subtle lift of her chin and the quiet defiance in her stance, she drew my attention as nothing else in this clearing had.

“…what?” She rolls her eyes and stands, sauntering toward me in her silk nightgown. “Don’t stare at me like that,” she says, her tone sharp and cold. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with a pushover like you. Don’t make me stick your head in the toilet again. Got it?” I just… stand there. What. The actual. Hell. In the book, Elara was sweet. Kind. The quiet heroine who saved everyone.

Finally, with a sigh, I shook my head and muttered to myself, “I can only have one of you.” The marshmallow looked innocent enough. The book, on the other hand, was dangerously sweet. After a moment of consideration, I popped the marshmallow into my mouth and continued reading. The book Indy gave me was a short romance story. She had said it would be a good place to start. I was beginning to suspect that she had deliberately chosen something that would make my heart explode. It was the classic story of a prince and a pauper. The female lead was poor, kind, and so selfless that it made my stomach hurt sometimes. She helped strangers, fed animals, and forgave people who did not deserve forgive

She had been sitting in The Tasty Place dinner, tucked in a corner with her head in a book- a novel I had suspected. One of those typical, Pride and Prejudice novels, or whatever the name was that women loved. It didn’t turn me on or off. She had glanced up from her book, not at me but past me. And it had felt like she saw right through me; it blew me away. Her eyes were like emerald green shimmering in the light, the type of eyes you didn’t see an Asian woman with very often. Contacts, I had thought, but that’s the first thing she clarified when I asserted myself and tried to speak to her.

“Finally, right? After everything.” “She deserves better than J.J.” And every time I heard it, it was like someone pressed a knife just a little deeper into my ribs. I caught her one afternoon outside the library. She was leaning against the railing, notebook open, pen scribbling fast across the page. Her face was set — not soft, not relaxed, but focused, like she was sharpening herself into a weapon one sentence at a time. I stepped close enough for my shadow to fall across her notebook. She didn’t look up.

She wouldn’t even entertain the chance to think about being near them. She quickly checked the messages on the phone, said goodbye to Mathew and Mike, again and turned it off. She pulled a book out of her purse and she didn't even notice when they took off. "What are you reading, if I may ask, ma’am?" Her companion's voice snapped her out from her ‘literature land’. She looked at him from behind the glasses. “A novel.” She replied but realized that she was being rude. "A book written by a well-known American adventure writer, Clive Cussler." She said in a slightly more pleasant tone.

I gazed at her longer to get a better look. That was when she also looked at me. “Oh…” Her eye colour… “Suna?” Clairmont stopped beside me. He seemed to follow my gaze when he asked, “Who’s that with Carter?” “Oh, that?” I unconsciously smirked, somewhat excited. I mean… “That, is the revered Minerva Lyle Williams, the female protagonist of this novel!” …What are the chances that I get to meet the female lead here?

She notices and smirks. “Didn’t expect to see human novels in Raleigh did you?” The cover of the book she’s reading is something that should not exist in their no-technology world, but she is the queen, so I’m guessing there can be exceptions. It probably doesn’t take her a day to get the latest releases. “I’ll leave you to your book, your Highness. Enjoy.” I walk off and when I get to the table Cain and Safira are camped at, they shoot me inquisitive looks.

I murmured, sighing tiredly, “Why did the author have to make her so spineless and weak?” I turned the page, fully immersed in the story, when the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears. I glanced up, and my eyes fell on an unfamiliar woman as she stepped into the library. She was beautiful in the most conventional way. Sharp cheekbones, flawless skin, and hair that tumbled over her shoulders in rich waves. Her posture screamed authority, but there was an arrogance in the way she held her chin just a little too high. When she stepped in, she posed at the door, holding my gaze like she was expecting something from me.

“As long as you can keep all of your people alive, you don’t care how much you kill. It’s insignificant.” I just looked at him as he walked out of the room and probably left the base. A gust of air left my mouth. A killer. That’s a first for me. _________ Isabelle’s Point of View: The day fluttered into a moment as I sat on the couch reading my favorite book of all times: “Pride & Prejudice”. I have always loved this story, the end was so much happier than anything real life could offer.