Chapter 2: Prologue-Part 2

I used to work at a rundown and shady bookstore. My job was to arrange the books on the shelves they belonged to and take inventory of the stock.

It was on a day when a new stock of books had come in. I was tasked with arranging them on the shelf which held fantasy romance books, It was a new book that was released called ' This Is Not love', at first glance, it seemed like just another fantasy setting romances where a prince and an innocent low ranking noble lady fall in love which causes the villainous fiance of the prince to spite her out of jealousy causing their engagement to be annulled and her being punished, after which the story gives the main couple a happy ending.

While arranging the copies of this book on the topmost shelf, I suddenly felt a sharp pain near my ankle because an old wound had opened up again as my leg had accidentally hit the shelf. I reflexively jerked and fell on my knees causing some of the books I had placed on the shelf to fall.

"What the hell are you doing you insolent brat!", the shopkeeper shouted at me angrily.

He raised his hand above his head and tried to hit me but I was already used to it, so I just sat there and took it, expecting to be beaten, but the pain never came. I slowly opened my eyes which I had closed out of fear when I realized that I wasn't hit, I looked at the shopkeeper and peered into his eyes, he was visibly angry but there was also a hint of pity in his eyes.

"I-I am s-s-sorry", I said in an apologetic tone.

"Che! why do even keep a brat like you in the shop, you useless trash! The only reason you are here is that I owe your worthless dad a bit, get your ass back to work and clean up the mess you made or you ain't getting today's money" he said with a scowl.

"y-yes" I meekly replied.

I got back up even though my leg was still in pain and started to arrange the books. To take my mind off things, I started thinking about the look in the shopkeeper's eyes a few minutes ago. I consider it one of my talents because I don't know how or why but whenever I looked into anyone's eyes I would instinctively know what they were feeling. I have peered into many eyes and seen various emotions, most of them pity or sympathy, the remaining are anger and hatred. There was only one person who I knew whose emotions I couldn't see no matter what.

As I was cleaning up my mess, my gaze fell on a book that had fallen open. It was the same one that had come in today - 'This is not love'. I went to pick it up and held it in my hands, looking at the open page. It was a coloured illustration and on the bottom of the page was an inscription, written there was the name 'Iris Von Baltimore - Villainess'.

It was the most beautiful drawing I had ever seen, it was an illustration of a woman with luscious straight black hair which was darker than the deepest abyss with streaks of purple at the ends. Skin as fair as snow and the physique so perfect you would think she was a goddess, but she was not weak or vulnerable in any sense. It was apparent that she had a very imposing aura that would befit a knight while her gaze was cold and ruthless. She was not a woman you would call cute or innocent as she was a beauty in every sense of the word, but the thing that attracted me the most was her eyes. They were a gorgeous shade of dark purple amethyst. If you stared at it, you would be sucked in. Though as striking as they may be, I could feel my heart start beating faster when I peered into them because I saw no emotion inside that facade of beauty, it was like the silent emptiness of a lifeless puppet.

I couldn't stop staring at her eyes because the person whose emotions I couldn't ever read had the same emptiness in him just like her, void of any emotion...that person was me.

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