The Curator’s Wisdom and Iordera’s Revelation

It turned out that while they were discussing, Mrs. Lailila had quietly approached.

“The Curator!”

“Good morning, Curator.”

“Please, Curator, have a seat here.”

Everyone eagerly made space, inviting Mrs. Lailila to sit and speak at her leisure.

Iordera awkwardly lowered her head, realizing that discussing students of noble birth behind their backs was perhaps inappropriate.

However, Mrs. Lailila seemed unconcerned; indeed, she began to analyze the situation with earnestness:

“This latest stunt by the Little Prince was merely a test. Once he hits a wall, he’ll realize that continuing to target you isn’t worth his while. His sole objective is to establish his own prestige, and there are countless ways he can achieve that, some not even requiring him to act within the academy’s walls.”

Pausing for a moment, Mrs. Lailila added, “Even if the Little Prince, with his youthful impetuousness, can’t grasp this immediately, those around him will certainly remind him.”

“I see,” the older library staff murmured, nodding and jotting down notes. “A valuable lesson indeed.”

Mrs. Lailila often conducted such ‘political lessons’ for them, a custom they had long grown accustomed to.

“Very well, it’s getting late. Let’s all prepare to begin our work,” Mrs. Lailila announced.

As the others dispersed, Mrs. Lailila singled out Iordera, calling her back.

“You handled that admirably,” the Curator began, offering immediate praise. “When dealing with these students, even if they are children of nobility, one cannot continually back down. The academy’s rules are our bedrock, our absolute limit.”

“…Thank you, Curator. I was merely doing my duty.”

Iordera felt a flicker of bewilderment, unsure if the Curator’s ‘admirable’ assessment extended to the elbow strike that had caused a concussion.

“Nevertheless, this confrontation will have its repercussions,” Mrs. Lailila continued, her tone shifting. “For the immediate future, it would be best if you lay low, don’t be so conspicuous. Do you understand what I mean?”

Iordera nodded. “I understand. I should avoid trouble for a while.”

“Precisely,” Mrs. Lailila mused for a moment. “Tell you what, I’ll grant you a vacation with maximum flexibility. You won’t need to clock in on time each day; simply arrive before dismissal.”

Iordera blinked. ‘What does she mean? I won’t have to be on time anymore?’ she wondered.

“And once you’re here, there’s no need to patrol. Just find a comfortable spot and read,” Mrs. Lailila said kindly. “Since you enjoy books so much, you’ll also have access to the third floor starting tomorrow. Consider it a reward.”

“Yes, yes!” Iordera exclaimed, a surge of excitement coursing through her. “Thank you very much!”

She knew the library had five restricted floors, with the forbidden section residing on the topmost one.

Only two floors remained between her and her goal—a swift ascent indeed.

“By the way, I noticed you’ve been poring over books related to Hecate these past few days,” Mrs. Lailila remarked suddenly. “Are you interested in her?”

Iordera paused, slightly startled. “How did you know…?”

“Professor Luna inspects the library’s books daily, compiling reports on what’s been browsed and read,” Mrs. Lailila replied.

‘…Does that mean Hecate is the first to know every day that I’m reading about her?’ Iordera thought, a wave of mortification washing over her.

A sudden flush of embarrassment colored Iordera’s cheeks.

“I’m somewhat interested because I rather enjoy alchemy, even though I’m not an alchemist myself; I’ve simply benefited greatly from its conveniences in daily life,” she quickly fabricated a reason. “I heard that Hecate, the Witch, is the Goddess of Alchemy and invented things like alchemical blood vessels, so I wished to learn more about her.”

“What a coincidence. Before I retired to become the library’s Curator, I spent many years navigating the imperial bureaucracy and even worked alongside Hecate for a time,” Mrs. Lailila said with a smile. “If there’s anything you wish to know, little Iordera, I might just be able to tell you.”

‘So that’s why she’s so adept at giving political lessons to the staff every day,’ Iordera mused.

‘Astounding!’ she thought.

Iordera pondered carefully, then asked, “Could you tell me your impression of her? What kind of person is she?”

“In truth, many of us preferred working with Hecate, even though she was merely a rising star compared to Sheila,” Mrs. Lailila revealed. “This was because Hecate spoke only the truth when discussing matters with people.”

“Only the truth?” Iordera’s eyes widened. “She never lied?”

That seemed rather difficult, especially in the treacherous realm of officialdom, where deception was so prevalent.

“Of course, she would only let you hear ‘the truth she wanted you to know,’” Mrs. Lailila chuckled. “And that, in itself, was quite remarkable.”

Iordera nodded inwardly.

Indeed, recalling her days in Juneburg, almost everything Hecate had told her had been true, devoid of falsehoods.

Although Hecate’s ultimate plan was to destroy the cage, Iordera’s actions, regardless, had always stemmed from her own inner convictions.

As the saying went—even if time rewound ten thousand times, she would still eliminate Lord Martin.

“Alright,” Mrs. Lailila said, slowly rising to her feet. “If there’s anything else you wish to know, I’ll tell you when the opportunity arises.”

An opportunity, Iordera understood, meant when she next performed a meritorious deed.

Instead of returning to her private quarters, Mrs. Lailila left the library, strolling leisurely towards the academic building.

Louisa was waiting for her in the Headmaster’s office.

“Teacher, what do you make of today’s events?”

“Quite satisfactory,” Mrs. Lailila replied evenly. “He’s merely the heir of a feudal prince, not the Grand Prince destined to inherit the imperial throne.”

He certainly wasn’t worthy of the continent’s most prestigious academy granting him special privileges.

Louisa nodded, then, recalling something, let out a scoff. “I truly don’t understand what’s so special about that little security guard, that even the infamous Witch is willing to dote on her.”

Mrs. Lailila merely smiled, offering no reply.

She wouldn’t reveal to Louisa just how extraordinary the little security guard’s background truly was.

At that very moment, a cold sweat suddenly broke out on Iordera’s skin in the library.

Following the Curator’s words, she had begun to wonder: if Hecate never lied, did that also apply to the phrase, ‘forcing your hand to do things’?

Having been instructed to keep a low profile, Iordera no longer had to patrol, nor did she feel like reading for the time being, spending the entire day lost in these thoughts.

She was almost tempted to pick up a book and tear it page by page, like a child plucking petals: ‘She wants me, she doesn’t; she wants me, she doesn’t…’

Already preoccupied with her thoughts, she returned home to find her two maids cheerfully greeting her:

“Good evening, Young Miss. May we ask if you satisfied the Witch-Lord?”

“Young Miss, have you considered refining your techniques?”

Iordera’s face turned ashen, and she silently took her seat at the dining table.

The two maids teased her for a bit longer before quieting down to prepare dinner. After all, it was dark, and it was nearly their bedtime.

During dinner, Iordera put down her spoon and suddenly looked up, speaking.

“In a couple of days, I plan to go out at night and find some work.”