Chapter 2 - Chance

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 syrupy compliments before sneaking kisses in the gardens.

Disgusting.

Love wasn't the only thing that belonged to beautiful people.

The village children loved reminding her that no travelling carnival would ever accept someone as ugly as she was.

She was a far better seamstress than Denisa, one of the prettiest girls in the village, yet the owner of the only boutique had rejected Rosella simply because she wasn't pleasant to look at.

Honestly...

Who needed a pretty face to sew clothes?

And don't even get her started on the inns and little taverns around the village. They refused to hire unattractive girls as well.

Apparently, the only suitable profession for an ugly girl was cleaning livestock pens.

Wonderful.

Nothing suited a woman better than the smell of goat droppings.

Rosella rested her chin against the windowsill.

Rain poured relentlessly outside.

She was in the tiny attic room she called her own, tucked beneath the sloping roof of the house. The ceiling was so low she had to crawl whenever she wanted to move around.

Her gaze drifted toward the stack of books she had collected from rubbish heaps over the years.

On top of the pile lay the book Clover had given her.

THE TRAVELLING CARNIVAL & THE SHADOW BANDIT

Rosella still hadn't read the book Clover had given her.

When she returned from the forest that evening, she washed away the dirt and the smell of the day before climbing into the attic. There, she sat by the small window, quietly watching the rain pour from the grey sky.

The story began in a distant kingdom, where a travelling carnival wandered from one corner of the realm to another.

They danced.

They sang the most beautiful songs anyone could ever hear.

Their graceful movements flowed as lightly as the wind itself, captivating every audience they encountered.

Among them was their finest dancer and singer.

Her name was Sophie.

She was a beautiful young woman with an endless thirst for knowledge, collecting books from every town and city the carnival visited.

"We're alike, Sophie," Rosella murmured as she read. "We both love learning..."

A faint smile crossed her lips before quickly fading.

"...It's just that no one could ever be enchanted by someone like me."

She sighed and turned another page.

"I wonder if I can really become a dancer..."

"Or maybe I should just spend my life cleaning things."

"As long as I can leave this village behind."

She had barely finished the third chapter when sleep crept over her.

After a full day of work, accompanied by the soothing rhythm of heavy rain against the roof, her eyelids grew too heavy to resist.

The book slipped from her hands.

---

"Ugh..."

Rosella jolted awake the following morning.

She wiped the trail of drool from the corner of her mouth before noticing Clover's book lying open on the wooden floor.

"RO! ROSELLA!"

"ROSELLA, WAKE UP!"

"HOW LONG ARE YOU PLANNING TO SLEEP?!"

Aunt Torry's voice thundered from downstairs, just as irritable as every other morning.

Rosella hurriedly picked up the book, tucked it inside her burlap satchel, and rushed down the narrow staircase.

Aunt Torry was already wearing her usual apron, busy preparing everything her daughter needed for another one of her ridiculous pretend-house games with the village girls.

Her name was Giselle.

The prettiest girl in Faraway.

She was the same age as Rosella, sixteen years old, with flawless ivory skin, soft chestnut hair, and bright green eyes.

Every young farmer and shepherd in the village adored her.

Rosella let out a quiet snort of amusement.

"What are you laughing at?" Giselle snapped.

"Nothing," Rosella replied flatly.

"Before you leave for work, make sure every piece of clothing in that basket is washed and hung out to dry!" Aunt Torry barked. "Not a single stain had better be left on them!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Rosella rolled her eyes as soon as her aunt looked away.

She hefted the overflowing laundry basket and carried it to the well behind the house. As she scrubbed shirts and dresses beneath the cold water, she watched the village girls skipping happily down the road toward another one of their ridiculous pretend-house games.

Playing wives.

Pretending to raise adorable little children.

Rosella snorted.

One day they'd be buried beneath endless housework, chained to husbands who thought marriage meant ownership. Just like the older men in the village, who spent their evenings drinking at the tavern before paying younger women for company.

What a wonderful future.

After finishing the laundry, Rosella headed toward Mr. Yosef's farm.

On the way, she spotted the same girls sitting on embroidered blankets, sipping tea with exaggerated elegance as though they were princesses attending a royal garden party.

They noticed her immediately.

"Hey, Ro! Come over here!"

Rosella didn't even slow her pace.

"I'd rather not waste my time playing your stupid games."

The girls burst into laughter.

"My, aren't you full of yourself?" one of them mocked.

"Who said we wanted you to join us?"

"We only called because we thought you might like to wash these teacups for us!"

More laughter followed.

Rosella merely clicked her tongue and continued walking.

By the time she reached the farm, she found Mr. Yosef standing outside the barn, rubbing his temples with a weary expression.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked.

Mr. Yosef let out a heavy sigh.

"My animals are sick."

"A few of them have already died."

"It's a disaster."

"They say one of them caught a virus and spread it to the others."

Rosella's face softened.

"I'm so sorry."

Mr. Yosef had always treated her kindly. He was one of the few people willing to hire her despite what others thought, and he had always paid her a fair wage.

"I'm afraid..." he said quietly, "...I won't be able to pay you for a while."

"You don't need to work today."

"I... understand."

She forced a small smile, though disappointment settled heavily in her chest.

No work meant no wages. And no wages meant it would take even longer to escape Faraway. With her head hanging low, Rosella wandered back into the forest. She searched for the place where she had found Clover's Bookstore.

Again.

And again.

Nothing.

Only the enormous tree remained, standing silently beneath the afternoon sky.

There was no wooden door. No windows. No stacks of books. No sign that a magical bookshop had ever existed.

Perhaps...

Had she imagined the whole thing? Rosella lowered herself onto a fallen log and pulled Clover's book from her burlap satchel. She brushed her fingertips across the worn cover before opening it to the page where she had stopped reading the night before.

Just as her eyes found the next sentence...

The sky suddenly darkened. Heavy clouds swallowed the sunlight without warning. A fierce gust of wind roared through the forest, tearing at the pages of the book and sending dead leaves spiralling into the air.

Rosella threw up an arm to shield her face.

The wind howled for only a few seconds.

Then...

Silence.

The forest grew still once more.

Slowly, she lowered her arm.

She blinked several times, squinting as brilliant sunlight flooded her vision. It was so dazzling that she instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes.

Then she heard it.

The gentle rush of flowing water.

Slowly, Rosella lowered her hand.

The forest of Faraway had vanished.

Before her stretched a crystal-clear river winding through a breathtaking city unlike anything she had ever imagined. At the river's source stood a magnificent waterfall, and atop the cliffs overlooking it rose an enormous palace that shimmered beneath the morning sun.

Rosella could only stare.

"...Wow."

Her voice escaped as little more than a whisper.

"Where... am I?"

Her gaze immediately dropped to her hands.

The book was gone.

Gone without a trace.

She searched frantically.

Around the tree.

Under the fallen log where she had been sitting.

Inside her burlap satchel, which contained nothing but a few boiled potatoes she had packed for lunch.

The book had disappeared.

And somehow...

...she had been transported to a place she had never seen before.

Rosella stood in stunned silence.

Then a grin slowly spread across her face.

"I don't know where this is..."

She threw both arms into the air.

"...BUT I'M OUT OF FARAWAY!!"

She laughed and ran across the meadow, spinning in circles until she tripped over a tree root and tumbled into the grass.

For a brief moment, she remembered the money she had hidden beneath the old chest back home.

Aunt Torry would probably find it once everyone realized she had vanished.

...Good.

Maybe they'd even be relieved she was gone. Rosella lay on her back, gazing up at the endless blue sky.

"I don't care where I am..."

"As long as it isn't that boring village."

She sprang to her feet and dusted off her worn skirt.

"Time to find a job!"

---

The city was nothing like Faraway. The streets overflowed with life.

Merchants called out to passing customers while colourful stalls displayed fresh fruit, elegant clothing, glazed pottery, perfume, flowers, and countless other treasures Rosella had never seen before.

She wandered through the bustling market with wide-eyed excitement, almost skipping as she watched strangers bargain and laugh together.

Everything felt unfamiliar.

The sights.

The sounds.

Even the air smelled different.

This...

This was the scent of adventure.

"YOU'RE FIRED!"

A furious shout shattered the lively atmosphere. Rosella turned just in time to see a young man being shoved out of a tavern. He stumbled onto the street before the door slammed behind him.

Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged woman with a cigarette between her fingers, one hand planted firmly on her hip.

Rosella watched as the embarrassed young man hurried away.

"Hey."

The voice came right beside her ear. Rosella jumped and stumbled backward. The woman looked her up and down from head to toe.

A slow smile spread across her face.

"Promising."

She took another drag from her cigarette before grabbing Rosella by the wrist and dragging her toward the tavern.

"W-Wait, ma'am!" Rosella protested, struggling to keep up.

"I don't understand what's happening!"

"You're hired."

Rosella blinked.

"...What?"

The woman tossed an apron at her.

"Wear it."

"Then start serving the customers."

Rosella caught it clumsily. The woman raised an eyebrow.

"You were looking for work, weren't you?"

Rosella stared at the apron in her hands. No one had ever offered her a job so... aggressively. Then Clover's words echoed inside her mind.

Opportunities don't always come twice.

Besides...

Working as a waitress sounded far better than shovelling manure for the rest of her life.

"Yes!"

She quickly tied the apron around her waist.

---

The tavern owner was pleasantly surprised. Rosella learned quickly, moved efficiently, and treated every customer with warmth and genuine kindness. Aside from looking a little untidy, she was an excellent worker.

Throughout the day, Rosella learned the woman's name from the regulars.

Madam Helen.

She also discovered that Madam Helen had never married. She lived alone, supporting herself entirely through the tavern she owned. Rosella admired her.

People back in Faraway believed a woman without a husband had failed in life.

Madam Helen proved the opposite.

She ran a successful business, laughed loudly with her customers, and seemed perfectly content living life on her own terms. When the tavern finally closed for the evening, Madam Helen nodded with satisfaction.

"You did well for your first day, kid."

She paused.

"...What's your name again?"

Rosella let out a silent sigh.

Wouldn't most people ask that before hiring someone?

First impressions of Madam Helen were... interesting.

She was strict. A little intimidating. And she had a habit of making decisions before anyone else had time to think.

"I'm Rosella."

"You can call me Ro."

"Good."

Madam Helen tossed her a small leather pouch.

"Here's today's pay."

"Be back tomorrow at eight in the morning."

Rosella opened the pouch. Inside were unfamiliar coins she had never seen before. Madam Helen frowned.

"What?"

"Not enough?"

"N-No!"

Rosella quickly shook her head, turning one of the coins over in her fingers.

1 Ko.

I wonder how much this is worth...

"Thank you."

She stepped outside. Night had already settled over the city. The once-busy streets had grown quiet, disturbed only by the distant howling of dogs. A chill crept down her spine.

Madam Helen glanced at her from the doorway.

"Don't have anywhere to stay?"

Rosella scratched her cheek awkwardly.

"Well..."

"I just moved here."

Technically, it wasn't a lie.

She really had just arrived. She simply had no idea where "here" actually was. Madam Helen looked her over again.

"That explains the shabby clothes."

She tugged lightly at Rosella's worn dress before giving her chin a quick tap.

"Come with me."

She led Rosella through a back door connected to the second floor.

At the end of the hallway was a modest but comfortable room. There was a proper bed, a fireplace to keep it warm during winter, and a window overlooking the street below.

Madam Helen pointed inside.

"You can stay here."

"I'll deduct thirty percent of your wages each month for rent."

BANG!

The door slammed shut behind her. Her footsteps echoed downstairs, leaving Rosella alone in stunned silence. After a long moment, she smiled.

"...She's terrifying."

"But..."

Rosella sat down on the bed. The mattress was softer than the pile of old rags she had slept on back in Faraway.

"...She's also surprisingly kind to a stranger."

She lay back, staring at the wooden ceiling. A quiet smile tugged at her lips.

"My life is going to be better here."

"Clover was right."

"Some opportunities really do come only once."

With that comforting thought...

Rosella closed her eyes.