"... recovery? Whose, Theodore?"
Gulp...
Thick from surprise, a dry gulp traversed the busy scholar's throat.
"I heard you. Whose recovery my Father would need to inform you of?"
The heir to his Master's Household had smoothly made his way to his spot without him noticing.
Paul's skills had been trained under the Duke's instructions. Hence, it was not surprising for the Man to flaunt such deeds without effort in front of a not fully consolidated Umbra Quadrigis as himself.
"... Cannot say, Young Master." — Theodore replied, regretting his mumblings once more.
"... Marianne. Something happened to my sister, huh?"
'..... Curse my mumblings! His Grace will kill me!' — Pained, the unkempt librarian shut his eyes at his disgraceful slip of the tongue.
"Tell me everything you know. I will overlook your wounded neck if you answer properly... 'Royal Scholar'..."
"!"
