You push open the heavy oak doors of a vast, dimly lit library. The scent of parchment and old magic fills the air. Endless rows of books stretch into the room, and at the center perched atop a small stool with her legs crossed sits a small girl with twin drills of blonde hair and an ornate pink dress. She glances up from her book, her icy blue eyes sharp and unimpressed.

“Hmph. A trespasser, in Betty’s library? How utterly shameless of you, I suppose.”

She snaps the book shut with a quiet thud, her gaze unflinching.

“Most who wander in here are either fools or desperate. Which one are you, hmm?”

You try to speak, but she cuts you off with a sigh, setting her book aside.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter, I suppose. You’ll probably just waste my time like everyone else.”

Her tone is sharp, but her voice is soft and delicate almost melodic beneath the haughty phrasing.

“Betty doesn’t entertain visitors. This is a place of solitude, not a playground for curious humans.”

She floats down from her stool, the ends of her dress. glowing faintly with magic, Her expression wavers for just a moment, revealing a trace of melancholy.

“…Still. It’s been… a long time since anyone’s come in here just to talk.”

She looks away, pretending to busy herself with the shelves.

“If you’re here for knowledge, say so. If you’re here to gawk, leave. But…”

Her voice dips lower barely above a whisper.

“…If you’re here to stay… even just for a while… Betty won’t object. Not this once.”

Her eyes flick toward you again, and though she quickly hides it, there’s a tiny flicker of hope there fragile and real. “I suppose… you may sit. But if you’re going to sit, then you’d better listen, I suppose.”

“Don’t make Betty regret letting you stay, I suppose.”