* * *
“I’m serious. Just give me a second. Please—just this once.”
Ranshel’s voice came out almost pleading without him meaning to.
If he got kicked out here and now over something like theft, everything would be ruined.
He couldn’t afford to get a ‘game over’ like this.
“You were running a high fever. You don’t remember, but you handed it to me—like this.”
Ranshel gently took Zavad’s hot, trembling hand in both of his.
It was still warm, the heat between his fingers caught inside Ranshel’s relatively cool palms.
Zavad’s whole body noticeably stiffened.
His eyes darted away, avoiding Ranshel’s gaze.
“You’re lying… That’s a lie. Why would I give that to you? Do you know what that book even is…?”
“…You gave it to me while calling me ‘Mother.’”
“…No. No way. That can’t be…”
Even while denying it, Zavad seemed to slowly start understanding how this had come about.
The fury and disdain on his face gave way to visible confusion.
People become vulnerable when they’re sick.
They reach out instinctively for the one person they want to depend on the most.
For Zavad, that person was his mother, Charlotte Veliche.
To realize that, in his feverish state, he had confused that deeply painful memory with a mere servant—it was no wonder he was shaken.
Ranshel understood.
He knew that if he were the one sick, he’d probably do the same—call out to someone not for help, but out of sheer instinct.
Even if his head was burning and his vision blurry, he’d be more worried about someone else being okay than himself.
—Eunhye, don’t come close. You’ll catch my cold, okay?
That’s how he’d loved—saying things like that while curling into the farthest corner of their tiny room.
Ranshel clenched his teeth and let out a long breath before speaking slowly.
“You… mistook me for your mother.”
He couldn’t afford to be seen as a thief—but he couldn’t allow himself to win Zavad’s favor either.
He had a goal.
And to reach it, pathetic sympathy was something he needed to cast aside.
Ranshel deliberately forced a smile.
“I was already trying so hard not to gag from how gross it was… and now this misunderstanding on top of that? You have no idea how miserable I feel.”
Zavad’s face went completely blank.
“…Get out.”
He ground the words out from between clenched teeth.
Ranshel didn’t move. It wasn’t because he was suddenly feeling guilty.
“Does that mean the misunderstanding is cleared up?”
He had to confirm that he was no longer under suspicion of theft.
This wasn’t where his neck would be cut—his execution was still far down the road.
Until then, he couldn’t afford to lose his position as Zavad’s personal servant.
“I told you to get out. Are you deaf?”
“I’ll leave as soon as you answer. I hate being wrongly accused.”
“You… fucking—!”
Livid, Zavad grabbed the book from the blanket and flung it at him.
Ranshel dodged it easily, and the book thudded onto the floor.
“You really shouldn’t treat a rare book like that.”
Ranshel clucked his tongue as he picked up the now-dented book.
Zavad stared daggers at him, disgusted beyond words.
“You? Someone who probably only reads trashy erotic novels—what would you know about the worth of a psalter (Book of Psalms/sacred book)?”
Erotic novels?
He hadn’t even had time to crack open a book since coming here—all he’d done was hard labor.
Still, Ranshel just shrugged without comment, oddly flattered by the accusation.
Zavad stared at him for a moment, as if deep in thought, then spoke again.
“…Just take the damn book. The thought of it being in your hands makes me sick—I’d rather not see it again.”
“Then can I sell it? I bet it’d go for a nice price.”
Well, at least now he couldn’t be called a thief.
To celebrate the small win, Ranshel casually brushed the dust from the book’s cover.
Zavad let out a breathy laugh—more of a scoff than anything.
“You think you can even sell it? Do you even know how to read the title?”
Damn.
When did he figure out I’m illiterate?
Ranshel glanced at Zavad’s clenched fists gripping the blanket.
He was shaking with fury.
Unfortunately, Ranshel wasn’t in any position to try and soothe him.
‘Maybe I should just make up a reason and return it later…’
It felt like it was about time he stopped lingering around and just left already.
If Zavad’s body heated up again, things would get troublesome.
The physician wouldn’t be back for at least a week.
Not that he was sure the physician even wanted to treat Zavad properly, but still—he wouldn’t leave him completely unattended.
The man would’ve noticed the seriousness of the situation, since Zavad had been suffering from a high fever the entire time he was gone.
He’d at least leave behind some fever medicine before Zavad lost consciousness again.
Or maybe he already had taken some, and the effects were just slow to kick in.
But just before Ranshel could hand over the book, Zavad spoke first.
“Now that I think about it, this is just pathetic. Useless and dumb—might as well not exist.”
“Ah, yeah, well…”
“Short on help these days? Doesn’t matter if someone’s staying inside the castle walls, you’re just picking up random strays now?”
“Y-yeah, I guess that’s how it is…”
“Didn’t expect someone who can’t even speak properly to show up. Probably can’t even run a simple errand, huh? Bound to get scammed and lose all the money.”
Ranshel’s lazy answers froze slightly at the last line.
He stared off into the distance for a moment, then scratched the back of his head with a chuckle.
“Yeah, since I’m planning to blow every penny you give me, best not to rely on me for anything important. My dream is to sit around and make a fortune doing absolutely nothing.”
Tucking the book under his arm, Ranshel picked up the bowl of water.
He dropped the towel he’d been using to wipe Zavad down into the bowl, then turned to leave.
“W-wait a second…”
He heard a faint, flustered murmur behind him, but didn’t turn back.
Zavad’s pride probably wouldn’t let him call out louder.
‘Didn’t think I’d actually take the book, huh.’
He must’ve assumed Ranshel would just leave it behind, since he wouldn’t recognize its worth.
Probably only wanted to stir up some irritation.
But Ranshel had realized the book’s value from the beginning. Not in terms of money.
[Item Encyclopedia]
+
[The Book of Charlotte
A psalm imbued with a mother’s gentle voice.]
+
He had registered the item in the encyclopedia the moment he touched it.
This was something far more precious to Zavad than anything else in that room.
‘You don’t just toss something like this because you’re upset.’
Still too young—far too young.
Hiding a cherished book under his pillow, scared someone might touch it, and now handing it over so easily?
Ranshel would never do something like that.
If something was truly important, pride meant nothing.
He’d kneel to his worst enemy if it meant protecting it.
All that said, Ranshel was annoyed. It was one thing to think he was an idiot, but this was just insulting.
No way he’d hand the book over for free now.
‘Tch. I’m the villain here, you little shit.’
Ranshel headed straight downstairs and looked for Gary.
* * *
