Chapter 24
The man reached for his throat but stopped short when his hand brushed Roshanne’s knee, instead slamming his palm against the floor with force.
It felt like a silent protest.
“What, you’d rather die than talk?”
Thud, thud!
His palm struck the floor twice more, as if to say : Yes, exactly
“Impressive loyalty. Or do you think I won’t actually kill you?”
It’d be better if I could see his face.
“Lamp…”
Roshanne’s gaze drifted to the lamp she’d left on the desk.
That’s when it happened.
Thump!
The man pinned beneath her shoved Roshanne aside and sprang to his feet. He bolted, fleeing the library in a flash.
Is he an idiot?
Roshanne dusted off her hands and stood, staring at the library door through which the man had escaped.
She’d pressed down hard—there’d surely be marks on his neck. Tomorrow, when daylight came, she’d gather everyone and find the man with the telltale bruises. Simple enough.
With that frail frame and that weak grip, he’d never slip past the guards and escape into the night.
Roshanne shook her head, shelved the books she’d been reading, grabbed the lamp, and stepped outside.
And the next day…
“…”
“…”
A man came to see Roshanne, his neck conspicuously wrapped in an odd-looking muffler.
“My lady, this is Henry Austen, who works as a librarian in the library,” River introduced.
“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Henry Austen.”
Gulp.
The sound of Roshanne swallowing dryly echoed loudly in the bedroom.
“This is your first time meeting him, isn’t it, my lady? Before working as a librarian, Mr. Austen served as an aide to His Grace. But due to poor health, he stepped down from that role and requested to work as a librarian. You were still quite young back then. His Grace was pleased to grant him some rest after his years of service.”
“Oh…”
Roshanne’s voice trembled.
“My lady, ahem. Ahem.”
Henry’s voice was hoarse, as if his throat had been tightly squeezed.
Clearing his throat lightly, Henry clasped his hands politely and addressed Roshanne.
“I heard you took the library key, so I came to pay my respects.”
Roshanne’s eyes darted to the muffler around his neck, then to his calloused palms, rough from carrying and moving heavy books.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to personally guide you through the library today. Are you busy?”
“I’m terribly busy—”
“Perfect, my lady! You were planning to visit the library this morning, weren’t you?”
Be quiet, you clueless jewel pouch!
Roshanne shot River a look, but it went unnoticed.
“Is that so? How fortunate. In that case, I’ll escort you to the library, my lady. Miss River, could you bring some tea and dessert to the library for her?”
“Of course! Oh… but aren’t you busy, Mr. Austen? I heard you were sorting new books yesterday. They said you were even out late last night working… If you’re tired, I can escort the lady myself.”
Out late last night sorting… Out late last night sorting…
River’s words echoed relentlessly in Roshanne’s ears.
“No trouble at all. Last night, there was a commotion—some wild animal must’ve gotten into the library—so I couldn’t finish sorting.”
“Oh, I see. Well then… My lady, I’ll bring the tea and dessert to the library.”
River smiled, bowed to Roshanne, and left the room.
Roshanne’s eyes darted back and forth, desperately signaling her reluctance, but no one seemed to notice.
“Now, my lady.”
After River left the bedroom, Henry stepped closer to Roshanne.
“Shall we head to the library?”
Unable to resist his insistence, Roshanne reluctantly followed Henry toward the library.
He came to me first. Could he be a spy?
Despite her composed expression, Roshanne’s mind was in turmoil.
Was he really just there last night to sort books as a librarian? Did I strangle an innocent man for nothing?
Her face paled.
An innocent man who used to be the Duke’s aide, no less?
Her complexion went beyond pale—it was as dry and crumbly as dough left out too long.
No.
Roshanne shook her head.
He could still be a spy. Who’s to say he hasn’t been one for years?
She stole a glance at Henry—or rather, at the muffler wrapped around his neck.
Was the mark from last night’s chokehold hidden beneath that ill-fitting muffler?
“My lady.”
Roshanne’s thoughts were spiraling, one leading to another, when Henry’s voice broke through.
“The library has set hours of operation. For the preservation of the books, and for my working hours as well.”
“I see.”
“Yes. It’s especially dangerous to wander the estate at night. You never know when someone might knock you to the floor and press a knee to your throat, right?”
So it was definitely this guy whose neck I throttled last night.
“I’ll be careful.”
A brief exchange passed between them, and the two arrived at the library.
“Oh, this…”
The moment they stepped inside, Henry’s gaze dropped to the floor, his voice trailing off with a bitter edge.
It was the exact spot where Roshanne had knocked him down and pinned his throat with her knee the night before.
“What.”
“It’s just… this spot holds some bad memories.”
Henry shuddered, clutching his throat.
Roshanne’s eyes narrowed.
“If there’s a genre you enjoy or a specific book you’re looking for, please let me know in advance. I’ll arrange them for your convenience, my lady.”
Henry muttered lightly and stepped forward. Roshanne followed quietly behind.
“…How long have you been working here?”
“My family has served the Railaten house for generations, so I’ve been handling small tasks since I was a child, learning at my father’s side.”
“You said you switched to being a librarian because of poor health?”
Maybe he switched to librarian so it’d be easier to act as a spy.
Roshanne’s eyes glinted coldly.
“After my father passed, I served as an aide to His Grace…”
Henry moved deeper into the library, and Roshanne followed naturally, keeping pace.
Even if River came to the library, she wouldn’t find them unless they made a sound.
“Doing a job isn’t just about ability. I’m only four years older than you, my lady. Being so young, I was often dismissed as the Duke’s aide. If it were just me being ignored, that’d be one thing, but my being disrespected meant His Grace, my master, was disrespected too…”
Henry picked up several books with ease.
Even someone as weak as him can carry a few books…
Roshanne absently rubbed her arm, recalling how it had ached last night after pulling just one book from the shelf.
“So I requested to switch to being a librarian, and His Grace graciously agreed.”
“What does age have to do with doing a job well?”
Roshanne replied dismissively, her eyes scanning the books in Henry’s arms.
By some coincidence, every book he held was one she’d pulled out to read the previous night.
How does he have those?
Is this man really a spy?
Roshanne’s gaze turned icy.
There was no one else around now.
She could end this cleanly. As she trailed behind Henry, Roshanne slowly raised her hand.
“My lady.”
Just as her fingers neared Henry’s neck, he called out to her, as if sensing something.
Roshanne quickly withdrew her hand.
“What.”
“It was you who choked me last night, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roshanne murmured calmly, but in that moment, Henry spun around, grabbed a book from the shelf, and hurled it at her.
Instinctively, Roshanne dodged, twisting her body to avoid the book, then lunged forward, seizing Henry by the collar and slamming him against the bookshelf.
Thud!
A loud crash echoed through the quiet library.
Just like last night.
“Urgh.”
Henry grimaced in pain, his head having struck the shelf.
“So you are a spy.”
Roshanne’s voice was chilling.
“No matter what you throw at me, it’s no use—”
She turned to glance at the book Henry had thrown. She’d expected something thick and heavy, something dangerous. Instead, it was a flimsy, card-like book meant for infants—utterly harmless, even if it had hit her face.
“…Huh?”
“I’m not—cough—I’m not a spy, cough.”
“What?”
Henry struggled to speak, his eyes pleading for her to release his throat. Roshanne, almost unconsciously, loosened her grip.
Henry coughed hoarsely, wiping tears from his eyes.
“I told you last night! I’m not a spy! You choked me so hard I couldn’t even speak, and then you told me to talk!”
“Huh?”
But everyone who could talk always did.
“Then why’d you throw a book at me?”
“Because! If you’re the one who did this to my neck last night—”
Henry yanked down his muffler.
A vivid bruise marked his throat.
“You’ve got to take responsibility!”
Thud, clatter!
Before Henry could finish, a startled gasp came from behind, followed by the sound of something dropping.
“Huh!”
Henry hurriedly pulled the muffler back up, and Roshanne slowly turned her head.
“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you two were… I was just here to clean… I’m sorry!”
A maid, responsible for cleaning, scrambled to pick up her dropped broom and fled in a panic.
