Chapter 42
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“…Truly?”
It observed her suspiciously for a moment, but when Fiona truly made no move, it relaxed its guard slightly and straightened from its huddled position.
“So, who are you?”
As if embarrassed at having been crying, it wiped its eyes with its tiny fists and now posed a question in return.
“I am called Fiona. I…”
Just as she was about to add a brief introduction along with her name, her still-uncertain position caught her tongue. How should she introduce herself? Grand Duchess? The lady of this house? The title still felt awkward, unfamiliar on her lips, so Fiona simply stated her name.
“Just call me Fiona. And you?”
“My name is Page. Page is a spirit born from books. This place is Page’s homeland and home…”
Sniffling pitifully, his gaze swept across the vast library.
Following his eyes, Fiona also took in the unfamiliar and majestic space.
As Page’s warning about rummaging suggested, the library was in a state of utter disarray. Someone had apparently resolved to examine every book and document, pulling them out indiscriminately until all the volumes lay scattered upon the floor. Moreover, with drawers left carelessly open and parchment strewn about, the entire room was in great disorder.
Setting that aside, however, it was a magnificent and splendid space. Bookshelves, crafted to fit precisely, lined the walls of a room as large as the Count’s main hall, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Shelves decorated with golden patterns and antique iron ladders added to the classical atmosphere.
“A truly wonderful place. You live in a fine spot, do you not?”
For her, it was a casually offered comment. Until coming here, Fiona had never encountered magical creatures, nor anything resembling magic, save for what she had first witnessed at the Count’s estate.
But after spending last night with Caligo, she felt she could now remain unshaken by nearly anything.
Compared to a beastly husband imprisoned in a stone chamber without a single ray of light, a book spirit weeping in a library was, quite literally, adorable.
And truth be told, it is far nicer than where Caligo stays.
Fiona, inwardly wryly amused, observed Page’s reaction to her words.
“But… it has become such a mess! Do you still think it is wonderful?”
“I do not lie about such things. Once the books are put back in their places, it will be tidy enough.”
At Fiona’s straightforward manner, the spirit’s expression brightened by the moment. Was it because he was a spirit born from books? He seemed to truly cherish and love this library.
“By the way, who did all this?”
She had a rough idea but asked to confirm. At this, Page’s face flushed red with renewed anger as he poured out his grievance.
“Page does not know. Page was sleeping peacefully, but when he woke, soldiers had already burst in. Page hid tightly, afraid, and after they left having found nothing, Page laboriously tidied up—only for them to return a few days ago and ransack the shelves again. The master entrusted library management to Page, and Page has always maintained it perfectly!”
The tiny spirit began wailing “Aaaaaah” loudly once more, and the sight stirred pity in Fiona.
The soldiers who had suddenly burst in were likely Jayden’s underlings. Evidently they had been searching for something in the library and failed. Fiona found herself curious as to what it might be.
But with no means of discovering it now, she wished first to soothe the deeply wounded spirit.
“If you do not mind, I would like to help you tidy up. Would that make you feel better?”
At Fiona’s words, Page’s head shot up once more. The repeated pattern amused her, and a smile crept onto her face.
“You would help? Page?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Well, why indeed… Ah, truth be told, I need your help as well.”
“Page’s help?”
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