It’s been almost one week since our first arrival at the Edouards’ castle.

My father has not yet paid me a visit. According to Lord Emilien, he has been quite busy these days and is actively trying to determine the best time to visit without raising suspicion.

I'm not sure, but I get the impression he's procrastinating on the matter, and even if that's the case, I don't blame him, as I do feel the same.

A part of me wants to see him, but another part of me is relieved when Lord Emilien says he won't be there for a while.

There were no major changes, save that I befriended Mael, though not to the point where he would label me a close buddy.

He's not particularly chatty, but at the very least we're talking. When we talk about books, he is the only one who actively participates in the conversation.

I tried to ask him personal questions to get to know him better, such as questions about his childhood, interests, and so on.

These were particularly difficult questions for me to ask since if he were to ask me anything about myself that I couldn't reveal, I'd have to lie or tell him half-truths.

But, thank God, he never asked me any questions about anything that would require me to lie.

He told me about his childhood and where his passion for books came from.

Mael's parents, being devout and workaholic doctors, spent little time in the Duchy and even less time in the castle. They spend the majority of their time abroad conducting research.They only return to the duchy once a year to celebrate Mael’s birthday.

Due to his parents’ absence, Mael's education was entrusted entirely to his uncle, Lord Emilien's second son, Lord Damien,

Lord Damian, it appears, has never pretended to be the head of the family and has been a member of the Paladin Order since he was eighteen.

He took an exceptionally long break from his Paladin duties and returned to the duchy solely to take care of Mael while his parents were away.

His uncle raised him until he was five years old, at which point he returned to the Paladin Order. Mael developed a strong interest in reading after his uncle's departure, at first just to read stories and other things written in his uncle's letter, but it has since mutated into an authentic passion for reading.

When he told me that, I was tempted to ask him how he feels about his parents' only visiting him once a year, but I restrained myself.

Perhaps my question was written all over my face because he immediately told me that he didn't resent them for that, that despite not being the best parents anyone could hope for, they were doing their best, and that he was grateful to them for that.

When he told me that I couldn’t restrain myself, I hugged him with teary eyes.

He was displaying more maturity than I ever did.

Lately, I've been questioning whether or not I was truly an adult in my previous life, because lately, I feel like I've completely lost the almighty advantage I had over anyone my age. It's like having a head start in a marathon, only to be exhausted midway and overtaken by others later in the run.

When he told me that I couldn't stop myself, I sobbed and hugged him.

He was more mature than I had ever been.

Recently, I've been wondering whether or not the fact that I was gifted with sentience made me very different from any regular child. I didn't have many opportunities to interact with children my age, but when I interacted with Mael, I didn't feel as "special" as I thought I would be compared to any other child my age.

I mean, being dotted with that sentience early in my life was a big head start for me, but I don’t feel superior or wiser compared to Mael.

I'm still not sure why I was the way I was, but the sentiment of being more normal than I expected to be isn't all that bad.

However, that didn’t mean that I would be slacking.

I will be giving my best, just as I always did.

"Do your best, Ronandt," I said, lightly slapping both of my cheeks.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" a feminine voice from behind me asked.

The voice belonged to a young maid who had been assigned by Syrus to look after me while he was away.

He told me two days ago that he needed to do something in town that would take two or three days off.

It was an unusual request from him, but I let him go, and right before he left, he assigned a maid to be present for me.

"No, it’s nothing. Is Lord Emilien gone? "

"Yes, the Lord followed Lord Mael."

Mael gave me a duplicate of the library key yesterday. He mentioned that he wanted to buy a book in the town today.

I added it to my pendant, giving me two keys adorned on the pendant instead of one.

Obviously, I couldn't follow him on his errand because I wasn't allowed to leave the castle.

Now that I think about it, this is the first time I've ever seen him leave the castle.

I expected him to be the type to leave the house only when and only if it's absolutely necessary.

In some ways, for someone like him, I suppose purchasing a new book could be classified as primordial for him.

"I suppose I'll spend my day there," I said as I walked to the library.

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Grandpa informed me two weeks ago that our castle would be hosting a visitor the following week. He informed me that this visitor would be someone my age with a hobby similar to mine. I was skeptical of his statement at the time because, as far as I recall, none of the people my age I've met have shown a genuine interest in what I enjoy doing: reading books and writing stories.

They tend to be more interested in playing or doing other things rather than burying themselves inside a library, as I do.

People are free to like whatever they want, and I am free to like whatever I want.

I eventually gave up on finding a friend who shares my interests.

It doesn't mean I don't have any friends; I do, in fact, have a cousin who is one of my closest friends.

After my grandfather, she is the person I feel the most connected to.

She had no real interest in reading or anything related to books. However, she was very motivated when it came to hearing stories from books as long as they were read out loud to her.

I was surprised to hear Ronandt ask for Annals of Crusaders when she came to the library, despite the fact that she had never read a word of it.

To be honest, I was a little disappointed when Grandpa introduced me to Ronandt because he didn't quite live up to my expectations.

I'm not sure how to describe it, but he gives me a sense of déjà vu while also exuding a mysterious impression. His eyes play a big part in that sense. I've seen several people with identical eyes; the Aubrecht are known for their red eyes, but I've heard that red eyes are a very unique feature of those born into the Altaira kingdom's Ducal and Royal families.

I was intrigued as to who he could be, especially after he refused to provide his father's name when introducing himself. I assumed he did so out of condescension at first, but Grandpa later explained that Ronandt had his own reason for keeping his name hidden. When he tried to actively engage in a discussion with me, I became even more convinced of this.

That sounds a little cheap coming from someone like me, but he still needs to work on his social skills.

The next morning, he returned to the charge with a new strategy. He wanted to go to the library with me. I initially assumed he was just there to befriend me, but it turned out he was genuinely interested in books.

One day, I had a visitor: a boy from the Laurance family who wanted to accompany me to the library. It didn't take long for his sluggish energy to bore and filthy the library.

The presence of other people around me while reading normally irritates me; even if they remain silent, some of them manage to create an irritating silence.

However, when Ronandt accompanied me to the library, nothing of the sort occurred.

He's usually very chatty, but he seems to do so only after we've finished our work in the library, which I really appreciate.

I'm not sure how he feels about me, but despite the fact that we've only known each other for a week and three days, he's already become one of my closest friends.

And it's for that newly acquired close friend that I'm now riding in this carriage with someone I've only known for less than two weeks.

"Rufus, what kinds of gifts do you think Ronandt would like?" Even if Grandpa stated that intent is all that matters, this does not imply that anything will suffice. " I asked the black-masked man sitting in front of me.

Grandpa informed me two days ago that Ronandt's birthday would be in four days. When I asked Grandpa for advice because I didn't know what to get Ronandt, he told me to go look for it myself with the help of the person most likely to know what would please Ronandt.

Rufus, Ronandt’s Butler,

Given the mask he was wearing and his stature, determining his age was difficult, but the white hair that appeared here and there on his brawny chevelure indicated that he was at least in his fifties.

These two appear to have a clear and concise butler-master relationship, but I frequently overhear them casually conversing as if they were close friends. They had a kind of complicity between them that you only get after years of knowing each other.

"I'm tempted to say that Lord Emilien's assessment is spot on. However, since it is not a response to Sir Mael's question, the only thing that comes to mind is books. For years, Maa has offered the Young Lord books alongside other gifts, but he has always preferred the books over any other gifts. "

Ronandt was strangely curious about where my passion for books came from, and I told him everything I knew. As if feeling the need to reciprocate the fact that I told him about my past and where my love for reading came from, he began talking about his childhood, and the two names he most frequently mentioned were Rufus, his butler, and Maa his governess.

Like when he was speaking with Rufus, it was clear from the way he described his interaction with "Maa" that she was more than just his governess, but more like a relative or even a mother figure.

"I see a book then."

"If that doesn't appeal to Sir Mael, how about buying something book-related without being one?"

Something book-related but not a book?

What about a pen? or a journal?

Something suddenly occurred to me.

I knew exactly what would make him happy.

"Thank you, Rufus; I've got an idea of what might please him," I explained.

"Pleased to assist," Rufus said, his voice bright with a smile despite the mask.