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

And I haven’t yet received a visit from my father. According to Lord Emilien, it seems that he has been quite busy as of late, but was actively trying to find the best way to pay me a visit without raising suspicion.

I might be saying that—but—I'm not sure. I am more under the impression that my beloved ‘father’ could be procrastinating on the matter.

Well, even if it was the case, I don't blame him for doing so, as I do feel the same.

A part of me wants to see him, but another feels relieved when told by Lord Emilien that he won’t make it in the few upcoming days.

Other than that, there were no major changes in the past week, except maybe that I finally managed to befriend Mael, though not to the point where he would label me a close buddy, but it has only been one week, so expecting more would be being overly greedy.

He's not particularly chatty, but we're talking, mostly about books, and now I'm not the only one who's actively participating 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. Which I admit 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 resort to half-baked truths. But, thank the Seven, 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 in foreign countries to conduct research, only returning to the duchy once a year to celebrate Mael’s birthday.

Due to his parents’ absence, the task of raising and educating Mael has been entirely entrusted from his first months to his uncle, Lord Emilien's second son, Lord Damien, who, despite being the second son, it appears, has never pretended to the Lord's Emilien's position and has instead joined the Paladin Order before he was even eighteen.

At Mael's birth, he instead of Mael’s parents took over their duty, taking an exceptionally long break from his Paladin duties to remain in the duchy to provide Mael the care his parents being away couldn’t give.

Until his fifth birthday, Mael was raised by his uncle. It was only then that Damian finally, as he had agreed upon, 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 as time went by it mutated into an authentic passion for reading.

When he told me about the part about his parents' being mostly absent, I was tempted to ask him how he feels about his parents' only visiting him once a year, but I restrained myself from doing so.

Perhaps because my question was written all over my face, but he promptly precised that he didn't blame them for it, that despite not being the best parents anyone could hope for, they were doing their best and he was grateful to them for that.

Mael was, to say, the first child to whom I could finally compare myself to without too much decadence, which made me realize that maybe I wasn’t as mature as I assumed myself to be.

In fact, lately, I've been questioning myself about how long the almighty advantage I had over anyone my age will last. I, who was born with something that I sometimes consider "special" and sometimes "curse," am beginning to believe that as I grow older, I am becoming more normal. It's like having a head start in a marathon, only to be exhausted midway and caught up by others later in the run.

I mean, one cannot deny that being born with self-awareness early on, perhaps too early, in my life gave me a big head start, but right now, I don't feel superior or cleverer in comparison to Mael, as I thought I would be facing someone my age.

I'm still not sure why I was the way I was, but feeling normal isn't all that bad.

However, that didn’t mean that I would be slacking. From now on, I will be giving my best, just as I always do.

"Do your best, Ronandt," I muttered to myself, 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 the young maid Syrius had assigned to look after me while he was away.

Where was he at? I don’t know.

He just 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 remembering that he had for nine years been stuck with us in the Rosetta Manor, I let him go and do as he saw fit. It was right before he left, that he assigned that maid to be present for me.

I didn’t answer her question, simply shook my head negatively and asked, "Is Lord Emilien gone?"

"Yes, just after Lord Mael."

"I see…" I muttered

Yesterday, Mael gave me a duplicate of the library key, which I added to the library’s on my pendant, for today he mentioned wanting to go out and buy something.

Obviously, since I wasn't allowed to leave the castle, I couldn't follow him on his errand, so I didn’t even bother to ask him what he was out to buy or even less ask him if I could follow him.

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 kind of person to leave the house only when absolutely necessary, but perhaps I was simply projecting myself onto him.

In any case, I was wondering what I could do now with almost everyone out.

The question wasn't left unanswered for long, for as my fingers wandered to my now two-key pendant, I came up with a rather clichéd and basic answer.*

"I suppose I'll spend the rest of the day there," I said as I walked toward the library.

***

Grandpa informed me two weeks ago that our castle would be receiving a visitor the following week.

He told me that this famous unnamed and mysterious visitor would be someone my age with a hobby similar to mine. Which I was quite skeptical of at the time, since as far as I recall, none of the people my age I've met so far have shown a genuine interest in what I enjoy doing, reading books and writing stories.

I was at the age where children 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 so am I to like whatever I want.

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

That, of course, didn’t mean I didn't have any friends; I do, in fact, have a cousin who is one of my closest friends.

After Grandpa, she is the person I feel the closest 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 aloud to her.

Despite the fact that she had never read a word of it, the 'Annals of Crusaders' were one of her favorite books, which is why I was surprised to hear Ronandt being interested in the 'Annals of Crusaders' when he came to the library.

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 giving me a strange impression. His eyes play a big part in that sense. I've seen several people with identical eyes; the Aubrechts, who were well known across the duchy 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. In a sense, I could even say that he was worse than her.

On the morning next to the day of their arrival, he once again approached me, trying to strike up a discussion. This time, 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 dirty the library.

I know I sound arrogant and conceited saying this, but usually the presence of other people around me while reading normally irritates me; even if they do remain silent, which they usually don’t, some of them manage to create an irritating silence. My grandfather suggested that there might be a simple explanation for my particular sensitivity, which could apparently be linked to the magic I was born with, blood magic.

However, when Ronandt accompanied me to the library, nothing of the sort occurred. He's usually very chatty, but he only did so after we finished our work in the library, which I really appreciated.

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.

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.

Grandpa informed me two days ago that Ronandt's birthday would be in four days. When I asked Grandpa for advice since I didn't know what to get for him, Grandpa 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 graying hair that appeared here and there on his brawny chevelure indicated that he was at least in his fifties.

Ronandt and he 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 that kind of complicity that only comes from 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 my mind would be 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, so I told him where it came from. 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?

It was then that an idea suddenly came to me.

I knew something he would like.

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

"I’m pleased to have been of help," Rufus said, his voice bright with a smile despite the mask.