Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 43

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

At the mention of needing help, rather than the offer to tidy the library together, Page’s eyes widened with keener interest.

Quite excited now, he rose from his spot on his short legs. As expected, he did not even reach her knee, and another laugh escaped her.

“You truly need Page’s help? Is it something Page can assist with?”

“Yes, embarrassingly enough, I have lost my way inside the castle. I wish to return to my room but cannot find the path. I believe it is near the main hall stairs…”

“Page can show you!”

The spirit, now recovered, bounced over and settled upon a mahogany desk in one corner of the library. At the same time, he took up a quill and began rapidly sketching something on a blank sheet of paper.

After a moment, he held out a paper upon which, astonishingly, an accurate and easy-to-follow map from this location to the main hall had been drawn.

“Heavens, this is truly remarkable!”

“If you wish, Page can draw the entire castle! Hmm… it would take longer than this, though.”

At Page’s offer, Fiona smiled and nodded.

“Excellent. But that shall be for another time. Since you have given me a map, I must repay you.”

Rolling up her sleeves, Fiona resolved to display the strength honed through years of butchery work. Only one problem remained: she could not read, so she had no way of knowing where each book should be placed.

“By the way, listen. Where should I put these?”

But Page seemed delighted by her question.

“Page can show you that too!”

Thus the two of them began tidying the library’s books together.

“You have truly maintained this place well. Not a speck of dust, is there?”

Fiona spoke as she inserted the books according to the order and places Page had designated. The books were indeed clean, but she had deliberately offered the compliment to lift his spirits.

This time, however, the spirit’s expression did not brighten. He muttered, somewhat disheartened.

“That… that was not done by Page. The preservation magic that prevents dust from gathering—only the master can perform it…”

Now that she thought of it, he had mentioned that the library management had been entrusted to him by the “master.” Fiona suddenly grew curious about this figure’s identity. If it was the master who had entrusted this place to Page, that meant the master was also the master of this castle. Who could that refer to?

“Who is this master?”

Perhaps this master might be deeply connected to Caligo, who had been found in this place.

At that moment, Fiona witnessed the spirit’s eyes go blank and unfocused, as if struck by some spell. Page, whose expression had gone vacant as if under magic or hypnosis, suddenly shook his head vigorously and came to his senses.

“Page does not know. The master is simply the master. He told Page he was entrusting the library to him.”

Was there some enchantment upon him that forbade revealing the master’s identity? Many questions remained, but thinking it might distress Page further, Fiona decided to ask no more for today.

Laughably enough, shortly after she stopped speaking, Fiona found herself succumbing to the unexpectedly strenuous labour.

Had she overestimated her own strength? Her body, strained not only last night but for some time before, would not obey as she wished.

Meanwhile, Page—whom she had wondered how such a tiny creature could manage this vast library—was using magic to float books into place with ease, as befitted a spirit born of books.

His pace was not swift, perhaps limited to lifting no more than ten volumes at a time, but he at least appeared less taxed than Fiona.

Having not even filled half of one bookshelf before reaching her limit, Fiona decided to honestly apologise to Page and return tomorrow to continue.