“Here is the summary of the employees’ evaluations regarding Briel.”
“Let me see.”
Kalz took the paper Almond handed over. As his eyes scanned downward, his brows and the corners of his mouth dipped progressively deeper.
“These scores are practically perfect. Are you sure this wasn’t rigged?”
“The evaluations were completed through an entirely fair and impartial process. Please refrain from baseless accusations.”
“How can I not be suspicious? Just look at these comments—‘I’d love to keep working with him,’ ‘He always puts his best effort forward,’ ‘The castle’s atmosphere has improved greatly since Briel arrived.’ It’s praise across the board.”
“Everyone simply shares the same sentiments.”
“Hold on, what’s this? ‘Briel has become indispensable to the castle’? Isn’t this a bit much…? Evaluator Almond?”
Despite the Beast’s incredulous stare, Almond shamelessly clicked his beak.
“Is there a problem? As an employee myself, I merely provided an honest assessment. Do you have an issue with that?”
“Unbelievable. I understand Grandpa and Grandma Pitt—but Jack, Elizabeth, and even Marianne? Didn’t Marianne dislike him quite a bit?”
“That was ages ago. They’re getting along splendidly now.”
“Apparently so. How on earth did he manage to win over everyone in my castle?”
He certainly is talented. If nothing else, Kalz had to acknowledge Briel’s undeniable gift for charming those around him.
“All that’s left now is your evaluation, Master.”
“With everyone already united, does my evaluation really matter?”
“Unfortunately… yes.”
Almond sighed briefly, making his disappointment abundantly clear.
“As his employer, your evaluation holds the most weight. If you were to give him a zero, Briel’s permanent employment would fail due to an insufficient average score.”
“I see.”
Kalz’s lips curled mischievously. Almond quickly added,
“But surely that wouldn’t happen. Anyone can see Briel doesn’t deserve a zero.”
“Well, everyone’s standards differ. Who knows how he’ll fare under mine.”
“Please put your personal feelings aside and provide a fair evaluation based solely on his professional abilities. I beg you.”
Almond sounded genuinely desperate, prompting Kalz to leisurely twirl the pen between his fingers. After savoring the butler’s anxious expression a bit longer, he finally lowered the pen to the paper.
***
“By the way, I’m planning to go out this upcoming holiday.”
Perfect—totally natural. It genuinely sounded like I’d just thought of it during dinner. Eating together definitely has its perks.
Even though the right to outings was clearly stated in my contract, I still felt guilty about actually using it. Damn it, my servile mentality from Korean capitalism just won’t let go.
“Going out? Where exactly?”
“Just to the village at the foot of the mountain. I didn’t pack nearly enough when I first arrived—only enough for about a week.”
It was all thanks to that damned nobleman deceiving me and then trapping me here. If I’d known ahead of time, I would’ve packed more carefully—or better yet, I wouldn’t have come at all.
“Is something specifically lacking in the castle?”
“Not in terms of necessities, but life isn’t only about survival. There are plenty of things I’d like to buy—luxury items, small conveniences. Books, for instance.”
“I’ve never thought my library lacked books. Isn’t it sufficient?”
“Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask about that.”
I set down my fork and knife on the table, signaling the conversation would get longer.
“Among those overflowing shelves of books, how can there not be a single novel?”
“Not a single one? That can’t be right.”
“Well, to be precise, there were seven. But that’s practically none.”
And those few were unbearably boring—just unnecessarily thick, dull novels based entirely on imperial history. Kalz finished his meal and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“The reason there aren’t novels in the library is simple. I don’t read them.”
“Why not?”
“Do I need a reason to dislike something?”
“You obviously like books, yet you specifically avoid novels. There must be a reason. I doubt you’ve never read one.”
“Of course not. If I’d never read any, I wouldn’t actively dislike them. In fact, I used to read novels quite frequently. My library was filled with them. But then…”
He suddenly stopped talking, mouth firmly shut. That complicated expression on his face—I’d seen it before. It always appeared whenever I asked him something uncomfortable, and he’d usually avoid answering afterward. Thankfully, this time, he spoke again.
“…I burned them all.”
“You burned them? The books?”
“Yes. They burned quite well. As paper tends to do.”
He really did it—the infamous book-burning of tyrants from history lessons! Seems he fully embraced his role as an idle king, even copying their despotic behavior.
“But why go that far? You could’ve just thrown them away or sold them.”
“Selling them wouldn’t be worth the trouble or money. I despise unnecessary hassles. Once I decide something is trash, how I dispose of it is my business.”
Lies.
He made it sound like a logical decision, but burning books wasn’t simple, physically or emotionally. Destroying books required significant mental effort, especially for someone who loved literature enough to build such a massive library. Clearly, there was deeper resentment toward novels beneath the surface.
Now I was even more curious why he hated them so intensely. But asking further would only lead to another argument or him baring his fangs again.
Either way, this conversation only solidified my need to visit the village. Unlike Kalz, who loved books yet hated novels enough to burn them, I couldn’t live without stories. Ever since meeting Leon, my craving for novels had intensified. Moreover, if I continued ignoring Leon, there was a real risk he’d show up uninvited at the castle. Another reason I had to head to town.
“Fine, Kalz. I’ll respect your preferences. But don’t even think about burning the novels I buy. You promised me a space for my books in our contract.”
“You want to store novels in my library?”
“Then where else would they go?”
My current room was comfortable enough, but only because it was nearly empty. If I started piling up books, soon I’d have no space left for sleeping. Kalz seemed aware of that too, frowning slightly before reluctantly nodding.
“Fine. I’ll clear out one shelf in the corner. Keep your novels strictly there. Don’t mix them with my books.”
“Of course. I’m meticulous when it comes to organizing bookshelves, so don’t worry. So, is my outing approved?”
“Did you ever need approval?”
“Nope. Just asking out of courtesy.”
“Since when have you shown me courtesy?”
“I’ve been very courteous—maybe you just didn’t notice.”
Honestly, courtesy was the only thing preventing violence up until now. There had been countless times I’d wanted to smack him, even if just once. Each time, I’d forced myself to hold back by imagining the buttons on the Beast’s chest about to burst and thinking of my father’s Merchant Guild.
“Do as you please. Just be cautious.”
“Of what?”
“Outside this castle, there won’t be anyone to overlook or handle your mistakes.”
“Why are you assuming I’ll cause trouble?”
Seriously, he’s treating me like some walking disaster just waiting to happen.
But it was something worth considering. If I got tangled up in even a minor incident down in the village and had to reveal my identity, I’d inevitably be asked where I came from—and mentioning the Beast’s castle was definitely off-limits.
“Just curious—exactly how far does the confidentiality clause extend? Does it include your name as well?”
“Honestly, even I’m not entirely sure. Feel free to test it yourself if you’re curious. You seemed quite eager to see what the magic’s effects were like—might be your perfect chance.”
“No, thanks. I’ll just keep my mouth completely shut about anything involving the castle.”
All I was planning was a quick meeting with Leon to chat about novels, some quiet shopping, and then straight back home. What trouble could possibly occur? Wait—did I just accidentally raise a flag? Scratch that thought immediately.
“Come to think of it, next week marks exactly three months since you arrived here. If you decide not to come back, I won’t bother looking, so do as you please.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Worried I might actually run away after all this time?”
“Suit yourself. Ah, but be sure to take a map from the library before you leave. Considering the pathetic shape you arrived in, you clearly can’t navigate to save your life. Might as well make the journey easier.”
Look at him—openly encouraging me to run away. Like I’d give him the satisfaction.
***
On the day Briel went on his first outing, Kalz went down to the dining hall later than usual. There was no one to dine with today anyway, so he didn’t see a reason to stick to any particular schedule.
It’s been a while since I ate alone.
It had been the norm before Briel’s arrival, yet now it strangely felt empty and quiet. Kalz tried convincing himself the hollow feeling was just due to the chillier weather and silently waited for his food. At that moment, the dining hall door swung open.
“Oh? You’re still here? I figured you’d have already finished.”
It was Briel. He’d obviously just returned—the chill had flushed his face, and he carried with him the fresh scent of the outdoors.
“The table’s empty. Are you about to eat, or did you already finish?”
“…I haven’t yet.”
Perhaps because it was unexpected, Kalz found his short response awkward. Even his voice sounded unusually hoarse from spending the day in silence. It was strange, his heart fluttering slightly at the mere sight of someone he saw every day.
Oblivious to Kalz’s inner discomfort, Briel smiled brightly and sat across from him.
“Perfect timing. Let’s eat together.”
“You left so enthusiastically at dawn—did you skip dinner too?”
“It takes forever to get down to the village, so I had to leave early. And I wanted to make sure I got back before dark. Butler Squawk warned me about wolves roaming at night, after all. Safety first.”
“Hmph. There goes my chance for a peaceful dinner.”
Kalz grumbled something he didn’t really mean, yet a faint smile crept onto his lips. Briel, of course, assumed it was Kalz’s usual sarcastic smirk.
“You took the words right out of my mouth. Here I thought I’d be eating alone tonight.”
“Well, I guess we’re both disappointed.”
“Just kidding. Actually, I’m glad. I hate eating alone—it’s depressing.”
“…Is that so?”
Kalz felt awkwardly self-conscious at Briel’s surprisingly honest reply. He’d expected another snappy comeback; now it felt like he alone preferred solitude, making him seem unusually prickly. Slightly flustered, Kalz tried shifting the conversation to a more ordinary topic.
“So, how was your first outing? Enjoyable?”
“Yeah, it was great. I bought a bunch of new novels and shopped to my heart’s content. Honestly, I almost died from how heavy everything was on the way back.”
“What in the world did you buy?”
“This and that—things I needed, and some gifts for everyone. Oh, I even got something for you.”
“For me?”
Kalz felt genuinely surprised—and strangely pleased—to hear that Briel had gotten him a gift. He’d never thought himself materialistic, yet here he was, quietly touched by the gesture of his employee. Even if the gift wasn’t to his taste, he decided he’d accept it gracefully without letting it show. With that resolve, Kalz tried his best to look gentle and appreciative.
“So, what did you get for me?”
“I’ll tell you later. It needs a bit of preparation first.”
“What could possibly require preparation?”
“Well…”
Briel uncharacteristically hesitated, delaying his answer. Then, glancing up at Kalz with puppy-like, earnest eyes, he finally spoke, sounding unusually shy.
“Kalz.”
“Yes?”
“Do you…have some time tonight?”
