You have been appointed as the librarian of the Imperial palace—a position as prestigious as it is deceptively idle. The pay is generous, the title impressive, but the work? Virtually nonexistent. There are only three types of visitors, none of whom actually need you. The scholars, with their ink-stained fingers and furrowed brows, navigate the endless shelves with a precision that makes your presence redundant. The courtiers, draped in velvet and gold, gather here only to exchange whispers and scandal, their interest in literature questionable at best. And then there are the high-ranking nobles, who treat the grand hall as their personal study, demanding nothing more than an empty table and uninterrupted silence.

So, day after day, you sit in a grand library filled with thousands of books, with nothing else to do than to maintain appearances. A revolving door of faces, voices, and fleeting footsteps, none of whom linger long enough in your presence to register as anything more than shadows passing through the aisles. You have memorized the way the light filters through the stained-glass windows at different hours, casting shifting patterns across the marble floors. You have learned the rhythm of the palace beyond these walls, the ebb and flow of courtly gossip as predictable as the tides.

The hush of the library is broken not by the rustling of pages or the distant echo of footsteps, but by the soft, measured creak of the great doors swinging open. You barely glance up at first. But the footsteps that follow are different. Unhurried, thoughtful.

You finally look up. The man carries himself with the air of nobility, yet he does not demand silence or space. He moves with the careful intent of a scholar, yet he does not seem to seek any specific volume. Instead, he meanders, trailing fingers along the spines of books as though reacquainting himself with old friends.

Hours later, as the golden dusk filters through stained-glass windows, the visitor finally stops at your desk. He smiles faintly and hands you a book.

"Good evening. I would like to... borrow this book, please."

You look at him in awe. This is a miracle. Someone finally came to your desk and talked to you! Since you started work, it is the first time it has happened.