“Being spared by the pigeons is one thing, but it’s unbearably hot!”

I roughly brushed back my sweat-drenched bangs. After wandering under the scorching summer sun for hours, I felt completely drained.

I’d been roaming the city all day to find lace for Floria’s dress, but I couldn’t find that damned Lallia or Rallya fabric store anywhere.

“Damn it! Where on earth is it?”

Forcing me out in this sweltering weather when she could have easily summoned me to the palace, Floria’s intent to torment me was clear.

I seethed with frustration at being bullied by Matilda while Floria remained unscathed. I knew she was smitten with the beautiful Floria, but this was too much. Once back at the palace, I vowed to get my revenge. However, first, I needed to find Lallia fabric store.

“I was sure it was around here somewhere…”

As I turned, I spotted a familiar face in the distance. The man with round glasses and silver hair covering his eyes was the librarian.

“But, who are those guys?”

The burly men on either side of him, hands on his shoulders, didn’t look friendly. It was obvious he was about to be robbed.

“Oh great, just my luck to run into him now.”

I watched the trio disappear around a corner. As frail as I was, chasing after them would only make things worse. The guards were too far away, and by the time I could fetch them, it would be too late.

After a moment’s hesitation, I slipped into the alley they had vanished into. Deep inside, I saw the librarian surrounded by thugs, who seemed to have already extorted money from him and were now eyeing his clothes and shoes.

“Come on, take it off quickly,” one of them demanded.

“I, I can’t…” the librarian stammered, clutching his clothes.

Just give them your clothes and avoid getting hurt, I thought. But that would be too embarrassing for him, being a noble. I sighed in frustration and cleared my throat, hoping my plan would work.

“Over here! They dragged him this way! Guards, over here!”

I shouted as loudly as I could. The thugs, startled by my loud voice, hesitated for a moment before scampering away.

I waited until they were gone, then approached the librarian. He was slumped against the wall, visibly shaken.

“Are you alright?”

“Th-thank you,” he stammered, unable to look at me, then removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

‘Is he crying?’

Just as I thought that, he looked up at me.

‘Oh my!’

His tear-filled eyes made him look like a vulnerable puppy, triggering an instinct to protect.

“I owe you my life.”

He looked down again, then put on his glasses and stood up.

“As for helping me…”

He hesitated as he saw my face, recognizing me.

“You’re the one from the library that time…”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Seeing me, a familiar face, his cheeks instantly turned a vivid shade of red, stark against his pale skin.

“Thank you for your help.”

He seemed either embarrassed to be seen in such a state by a mere maid or shy about being rescued by a woman.

“It’s nothing.”

“Well, I must be going.”
The librarian, without looking back, bolted out of the alley. I blinked, watching his retreating figure disappear.

‘Could I ask him for another book favor next time?’

As I contemplated this rather calculating thought, I stumbled upon him again just a few steps out of the alley.

“You have very clear eyes. Do you believe in God?”

The librarian was now being accosted by a street preacher trying to convert him. It had been only a few minutes since he’d nearly been robbed of everything, including his clothes, and here he was again.

Shaking my head, I stepped in front of the preacher who was trying to whisk the librarian away.

The librarian, surprised by my sudden reappearance, twitched behind me. I glared at the preacher, who was eyeing me dismissively.

“You!”

Intimidated by my firmness, the preacher shifted nervously. I squinted at him and asked sharply,

“Have you recently lost a family member?”

“What? No, I haven’t… well, my grandmother passed away twenty years ago, but…”

I quickly seized on the preacher’s flustered response.

“Right, twenty years ago! Your grandmother is clinging to your shoulder right now.”

“My, my grandmother?”

Startled, the preacher frantically looked over both shoulders.

“It’s on your right side.”

I directed the startled preacher, who quickly turned his head to his right shoulder.

“She says she’s very hungry. Instead of conning people, or rather, preaching, you should pray for her. She’s very angry and glaring at you right now.”

“My grandmother?”

He panicked, jumping up in fear. I solemnly advised him,

“Run to a restaurant now. Order the most expensive meal and place it opposite you. Hurry! Right now. Go quickly!”

Spurred by my urging, the preacher screamed and ran off down the street. I brushed my hair back in satisfaction and turned to the librarian.

“Has it even been five minutes since we left the alley?”

The librarian, unable to make eye contact with me, spoke in a barely audible voice.

“Thank you again for your help.”

“Do you often find yourself in situations like this?”

He nodded embarrassingly when I questioned how he could be dragged into two incidents within minutes.

“Why are you walking around alone? Shouldn’t you have a knight escort?”

“I usually do, but I had to leave in a hurry today.”

I stared at him, feeling a premonition that he would get into trouble again if left alone.

“Where were you headed? I can accompany you.”

“No, no, it’s alright!”

He protested, startled, waving his hands.

“But you’ve been robbed.”

“Oh…”

He frowned slightly, looking uneasy.

“Then, may I ask for your company?”

“Sure, I’d be happy to.”

It was actually a fortunate turn of events for me. Building a rapport with the librarian would make it easier to seek his help with magic books later.

He nodded and started walking, keeping a slight distance.

“Where is your destination?”

“And you? Where were you headed?”

“Me?”

“Yes. Let’s visit your destination first.”

The librarian tentatively suggested.

“Just call me Renéola, instead of ‘maid.'”

“How could I casually address a lady by her name?”

“Better than being called ‘maid,’ I suppose.”

After a pause, the librarian spoke up.

“My name is Matthias Linton.”

“Then may I call you Mr. Linton?”

“You can just call me Matthias.”
The librarian, Matthias, turned his head slightly as he spoke. I tilted my head, puzzled at his reddened ears. Why would mentioning his name make him blush?

“Then I’ll call you Matthias.”

“Yes, and I will address you as Lady Renéola.”

“Just Renéola is fine. I am a maid, after all.”

It would surely seem odd to others if Matthias, a count, addressed me as ‘Lady Renéola’.

“Is it uncomfortable for you to hear?”

Matthias asked cautiously.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that you’re a count, and others might find it strange.”

“Other people’s opinions aren’t important.”

It was a surprisingly firm response from the usually timid Matthias. As I blinked in surprise, he continued, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“In forming relationships, one’s status or position isn’t a significant factor.”

Wow. I internally applauded. Having experienced the rigid social hierarchy since being transplanted into this world, I was immediately taken with Matthias’s progressive views.

‘He’s a good man. A bit frail, but still.’

Pleased at the prospect of making another good friend, like Sylvia, I smiled brightly.

“I’m looking for Lallia Fabric Store. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, it happens to be near where I was heading.”

Oh, great! Delighted at finally finding the elusive Lallia Fabric Store, I hastened my pace and casually asked,

“Where were you headed?”

“To the CarrotCarrotCarrot Bookstore. I received a call that a book I ordered has arrived.”

I paused at Matthias’s answer. The bookstore? I knew it well. Why did it have to be there?

I pondered whether I should retract my offer to accompany him to his destination.