Marigold's Point of View
21st Century, February 15, 2026
Zeller University, Cavendell Capital
I took off my white, round glasses, a satisfied smile spreading across my lips as I closed the third history book I had read this month.
It was all about 10th-century history during the GuaDynasty. I had enjoyed reading it, as I always learned a lot about the past and how it affected today's modern century.
I looked around the library, where I often hung out alone to kill time. Only a few students were left. Some were engrossed in their reading, others had dozed off, and a few were glued to their phones.
I wouldn't have noticed that it was already eight o'clock in the evening if I hadn't checked my phone. It's already late. I tidied up my scattered belongings on the table before returning the books to their shelves.
I immediately frowned when I saw three empty spaces next to the 10th-century books—the 11th-century books were missing. Beside the space were the 12th-century volumes, which were odd because this section was usually the most organized in the library, since no one was very interested in these kinds of books.
Hmm, did someone borrow them before me?
I immediately felt disappointed by that thought. I was actually planning on borrowing them so that I could read them at hom—
"Are you looking for this, Miss Sinclair?"
I let out a sharp curse when someone suddenly spoke right beside me. There stood Mrs. Calle, holding the book I wanted to borrow. She immediately reprimanded me for the noise I made.
Mrs. Edith Calle was our university's librarian. She had dark hair pulled into a loose bun and observant eyes behind her thin-framed glasses. If my memory serves me right, she became a librarian at our university just last year, and since she came here, the number of history books in the library has been increasing. No wonder she already knew my name—I was always here, after all.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Calle. You just caught me off guard," I apologized respectfully. "I-Is that the 11th-century volumes?" I asked, my eyes shining brightly as I observed the books she was holding. They were so thick and looked so authentic!
Mrs. Calle's eyebrows automatically arched, as if I were a new kind of species in her eyes.
"I assume that you want to borrow these books?" she asked.
Without hesitation, I nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Calle. I just finished reading about the Gua Dynasty, and I've learned a lot."
"But the Cavendish Dynasty is far from the Gua Dynasty, dear. I wouldn't recommend that students borrow this book outside the library. You can bor—"
"I promise I'll return them after three days, Mrs. Calle. I just… really, really want to read them. I feel like I won't be able to sleep if I don't read them," I insisted, cutting her off.
I had heard many stories that during this time, the third Empress of the Altos Empire was appointed—one who had no name because she was cold and ruthless toward the people of the Altos Empire. She was eventually executed and erased from history. Until now, no one knows her name.
As an organized person, I prefer starting from the very beginning so I can fully understand what's happening. I started reading the 1st-century volume three months ago just to eventually reach the controversial 11th-century volumes.
The lady wouldn't take her eyes off me, as if she wanted to read whatever was running through my mind at this hour.
"Give me a valid reason why I should let you borrow these books?" she asked, showing a book with no title, clearly worn out.
I stood up straight and smiled slightly. In my posture now, I looked as if I were about to answer a question in my professor's recitation.
I cleared my throat.
"I've been passionate about history since elementary school, and I truly want to understand the people and events that shaped our world. These books are rare, and reading them will help me learn lessons that aren't found anywhere else. I believe that history has already been forgotten by many people. If no one reads this, then they really disappear," I sincerely answered.
Mrs. Calle paused and amusingly observed me then she eventually smiled and handed me the books. "Very well… but you must be careful. Remember, these books… they're not like any other. You might… go back further than you expect," she said meaningfully.
I tilted my head, puzzled. "What do you mean go back, Ma'am?" I asked.
She smiled and shrugged her shoulders before turning her back to me. I thought she was going to leave completely, but she spoke again.
"Some histories don't like being read. They prefer being witnessed by the reader's eyes and consciousness." She turned to me. "Three days only, Miss Sinclair. I expect you to bring it back to me on Wednesday."
I just followed her with my eyes until she returned to the front desk. I tilted my head slightly, a little confused by what she said.
I took a deep breath and just brushed it off my mind. I need to go home because my brother is probably waiting for me at home.
After logging out, I hurried out of the library. I passed a few students in the hallway but chose to ignore them. It was already half past eight, and the school closed at ten in the evening. I still had to buy dinner for us since my brother had most likely done nothing at home again.
That brat!
When I got home, I wasn't wrong. The moment I stepped through the door, I was greeted by scattered plastic wrappers of junk food, candies, cup noodles, and cans of soda all over the floor.
"Are you stupid? Don't go there! There's an enemy! Idiot!" my brother shouted repeatedly, completely absorbed in his online game and not even noticing I had arrived.
I took a deep breath, picked up the trash from the floor, and threw it in the bin. Then I went straight to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of us.
Before calling my brother to eat, I tackled the pile of dishes in the sink that had been sitting there since morning. My arms ached, and my mind was heavy from a full day of studying and reading—but complaining wasn't an option. There was no one else to rely on.
Mom had died giving birth to our youngest, Monroe. Dad was always busy working, barely home—maybe twice a month at most. All he did was hand us our weekly allowance and leave.
"Monroe, it's time to eat! You can play after," I called, my voice carrying across the room, but he didn't seem to hear me.
After several failed attempts, I sighed and decided to take his food to him. I found him in the living room, glued to his game. Carefully, I pulled the headphones off his ears and set the plate down in front of him.
"Eat first. You can play later," I said firmly, trying to keep my patience. Still, he ignored me. My frown deepened. "Are you seriously just going to play or you're going to lose your allowance, Monroe Franco Sinclair?" I warned, a hint of exasperation in my voice.
Finally, his fingers stopped moving over the keyboard. He scowled, got up, and muttered, "Fine!"
I watched him stomp off to the dining room, carrying the plate I'd given him earlier. I made sure to turn off his computer before following him to the kitchen.
"Did you do your homework?" I asked in the middle of dinner.
Monroe pouted and shook his head. "I don't understand any of it!" he complained.
I rolled my eyes. "You don't understand your lessons, but you can somehow play games just fine. No computer for you until you finish your homework. And don't forget—you have school tomorrow," I added.
His pout got even longer before he finally nodded. He is already sixteen years old yet he's still stubborn!
After dinner, he did as I told him while I changed into my comfy clothes and returned to the dining room to start reading the book I'd borrowed. I only have three days to finish it, so I'll be skipping school for a little while. I think that wouldn't hurt.
As the seconds passed, I didn't even realize how deeply absorbed I had become in what I was reading.
They were right—what everyone said was true. The former empress who had once been married to the late Emperor Leopold Pierce Cavendish had no recorded name. The only proof that she had ever existed was her natural white hair—one of a kind—that had been witnessed by many.
I was only halfway through, yet I hadn't come across a single admirable trait about her. The book heavily emphasized her cruelty—how cold, emotionless, ruthless, sharp, and intimidating she was. It even referred to her as the emperor's shadow, claiming that she was the one truly controlling Emperor Leopold in ruling the entire Altos Empire during those years of her tenure before being executed.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, and hours into days. I lost track of time completely. I barely slept; even when I closed my eyes, it felt as though I was still reading. I had been locked in my room all day, stepping out only to cook food for Monroe before returning to my room to continue reading.
"One more book," I whispered, glancing at the calendar on top of my desk.
I had been reading for two days straight, and I only had one day left to finish this volume. This was probably the fastest reading marathon I had ever done in my life.
These books weren't written like novels. They were more educational in style, filled with bullet points and structured formats.
I adjusted my glasses and rubbed the back of my neck.
"I'll just read one page," I told myself with a yawn.
But exhaustion took over before I realized it. I fell asleep with my head resting on the open book, my thick, frizzy curls spilling across the pages.
Little did I know, that was the very moment history would allow me not only to witness it, but to live through it myself.