A Gentle Noble's Vacation Recommendation

The day after he’d suffered through a hangover, he’d mostly recovered, though a faint, dull heaviness still lingered in his body.

Holding a book in one hand, Lizel left his room, thinking he might spend the whole day reading. It wasn’t as if this were some ascetic “pure reading week,” and staying cooped up in his room would be dreary.

He was heading downstairs, planning to go to his usual café, when he met eyes with the landlady who was just about to come up.

“Oh, Lizel, perfect timing.”

“Did you need something from me?”

“A letter came for you. It was just sitting on the chair by the entrance before I even noticed.”

Lizel went down the rest of the stairs and looked at the letter in her hand.

The envelope was firmly sealed, and on the front, there was only an arrow (→) and the single word: “Noble.” The landlady had apparently decided without much hesitation that it was meant for Lizel.

He thought she could have at least hesitated a little, but since he was the only boarder in this inn known as “the noble,” there was no helping it. Smiling wryly, he accepted it.

“Thank you. I’ll take it with me.”

“If it’s some weird letter, just ignore it, all right?”

He didn’t open it there; instead, he slipped it between the pages of the book in his hand.

If asked why he’d taken the book out of his pouch, he could only say that he was in the mood to be holding it.

The thin letter completely vanished from sight once the book was closed. He smiled to reassure the worried landlady, then left the inn with a “I’m going out for a bit.”

(“Where should I read it?”)

The book he held was the one Eleven had given him as payment for bringing Gill to that party he’d been invited to before.

He’d known in advance it would be a long-term battle, so he’d been reading other books in between and slowly continuing the work of deciphering it. He was gradually making some progress with the text, but he still hadn’t grasped even a shred of its actual content.

Spending today really digging into it sounded nice. In that case, would it be rude to linger at the café for a long time? Smiling in quiet anticipation, Lizel thought it over.

(“Somewhere comfortable, where it’s fine if I get absorbed and tune things out.”)

Pushing his hair behind his ear as he walked down the street, he watched some children dash past him.

He didn’t know if they were headed for school or off to play, but they were familiar faces. When they noticed Lizel, they stopped in a fluster, turned back, and waved their arms vigorously.

It must have been a greeting that didn’t require a response, but when Lizel lightly waved back, their faces instantly lit up with delight and they started running again. The clear, high voices of the children didn’t make his head throb; he thought with some feeling that his hangover really had passed.

No doubt thanks to Judge’s extremely appropriate and devoted nursing the other day.

(“That reminds me…”)

He suddenly recalled something.

The back room of the shop he’d been led into before, the comfortable and calm atmosphere, the pleasantly cushioned chair. And the tea and cinnamon cookies that had been served to him so happily had been in no way inferior to the shop’s own products; if anything, they’d been even better.

That might be good, he nodded to himself. He was sure he wouldn’t be a bother, and Judge would unquestionably display his full competence as a merchant and play the perfect host without letting it affect the store in the slightest.

On top of that, Lizel would never get so absorbed that he couldn’t hear voices and make people worry. The more he thought about it, the more ideal it seemed.

(“I wonder if Judge-kun is there.”)

It was easy to imagine him busily moving about inside the shop.

Lizel glanced down at the book in his hand, then set his course toward Judge’s store and started walking.

“Then, um, please… take your time…!”

Judge’s eyebrows were lowered as usual, but his smile was soft and full of joy. Lizel smiled back at him.