The girl had been staring holes into the back of his head for a while now.
"Kindly stop staring."
"Sorry, Your Highness."
She sounded scared, just the tiniest bit. Nathan figured it was because she was scared of offending a royal.
"It's okay."
Nathan was almost certain this was the girl he'd seen in that...syringe-induced vision thing Cantis had shown him. They had the same dark skin and red-pink hair, braided down the back and studded with beads. She kept head low the entire time, so Nathan wasn't able to see her face, but he was sure that if he could, he'd find a set of violet eyes, narrowed in assessment.
Nathan was also pretty sure she wasn't a noble. Apparently, common people studied at this school, too. The class difference was painfully obvious. Her uniform was different, for one. It was simpler, more practical. It didn't have a crest. And the colour was brown, whereas everyone else he'd seen so far wore blue. It made sense, considering that blue sometimes tended to be associated with higher classes. A little insulting, though.
And she seemed...genuinely scared of him, rather than just avoidant.
"What's your name?" Nathan asked, if only to make her less likely to bolt.
"Marilla." the girl replied, cementing her identity as the girl from the vision. "Marilla Strix Roselyn."
"Roselyn?" He'd heard that one before. Wasn't that the name Evil-Vision-Caleb had mentioned?
"A family name," Marilla offered as an explanation.
"Huh." Strange. Nathan glanced at her. She seemed a bit hesitant. A lie? That was plausible. Was she undercover? As far as Nathan could tell from the...Vision, Marilla was in trouble with the Roselyn. Maybe she had landed herself in that predicament by impersonating one of them.
Oh, wait. He was supposed to introduce himself, too, wasn't he?
"I'm Damien," he said, holding back a cringe at the name. He still hadn't gotten used to introducing himself like that, even if he had already been here a week. "Damien Oziah." He'd picked up the last name from one of the journals on his desk back in the castle. It was such a weird last name. Oziah. Ugh.
"Yes, Your Highness," Marilla said, voice tight. Nathan barely had time to register the sound of retreating footsteps before realizing that she had left. He didn't bother following her exit.
That was the protagonist of the story for you. Afraid of nobles but unafraid of turning her back on one mid-conversation.
Or, well, that was the conclusion Nathan had come to. Cantis had provided a total of zero context, as usual. Marilla might very well not be the protagonist of the book. Roseless Thorns, or something.
...Gods, he really was in a fucking book, wasn't he?
For some reason, it had never really felt real. Some part of Nathan still thought this was an extended pre-death hallucination. That was infinitely more plausible than whatever the hell his current situation was.
If he just hadto be thrown into a book, couldn't it have been one he at least knew about? One he had read? One he wouldn't be completely fucking clueless in?
What was he even doing? He was essentially living an isekai right now and the only productive thing he'd done so far was rearrange books in a damn library. Not to mention that he'd been brought here by some stupid, abstract deity to complete some stupid, abstract task with stupid, abstract rules where failure had stupid, abstract consequences, and why couldn't anything just be tangible for once?
The last book slotted into place on the shelf. The spine spelled out the words, The Rise of the Path of the One. He had no idea what that was about, but the title had way too many 'the's for him to be able to take it seriously. What was it, some kind of religious book?
Nathan stared at the book for a moment before fishing it back out. He'd been meaning to read up on the history of this place for a while, now. Might as well—
"Good afternoon, Your Highness."
Nathan almost jumped at the sudden interruption. Man, he really needed to stop getting lost in thought. Someday, someone would stage a coup, and he wouldn't even notice because he was so caught up in his head.
"...Did I startle you? I'm sorry," Theresa said, sounding concerned.
"No. No, it's fine." Nathan placed the book back, glad to have an excuse to procrastinate on learning fictional history.
...Would it still be considered fictional at this point? What even counted as fictional? Granted, he was in someone's made-up world right now, but he was still a living being like he used to be, wasn't he? Did that constitute as real? Or were things different for the others, and he just felt the way he did because he was an outsider?
Actually, if consensus bias was to be considered, wasn't Nathan the one who'd be considered fictional? He was the anomaly, after all— the one who didn't fit this world's blueprint. An argument could be made, therefore, that Nathan was not real by the world's standards.
"Um...Your Highness?"
"Fuck, sorry." Nathan shut his eyes to attempt to clear his head. "Sorry. I was spacing out. You were saying...?"
"I wasn't saying anything," Theresa said gently. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine. Why do you ask?" Nathan took a step away from the shelves to scrutinize them from afar.
"No particular reason," Theresa said, joining him. "Can I not ask after the well-being of a friend?"
It almost sounded like a challenge. Nathan met her eyes. Grey, like a certain someone else he knew, but oh-so-much softer.
"You can," Nathan decided after a while. "Thank you for asking. I'm fine."
"Sure." Theresa reached out to the shelf to pull out the book Nathan had been eyeing earlier. The Rise of the Path of the One. "On an unrelated note, you sure do skip class a lot."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell on me?"
Theresa rolled her eyes. "Oh, good heavens, no. I brought it up because Bob misses his companion."
"...Ah." What the hell was he supposed to say to that? "Do you want custody of Sir Bartholomew Ignatius Featherstonehaugh III?"
Theresa let out a laugh. "No, thank you. I'm happy with just one son. I don't need another."
Nathan shrugged. "Your loss."
Theresa hummed in acknowledgement, flipping through the book. Nathan caught a glimpse of the page she stopped on. Banishment of Vessels, the chapter title said.
"Does Sir Bartholomew hang around libraries often?" Theresa asked after a while.
"No, actually." Nathan leaned against a shelf. "He's illiterate."
"What a coincidence!" Theresa said, smiling. "Bob has always wanted to be a teacher. Perhaps Barty can sign up for his classes."
Nathan looked at her in horror. "Oh no...You've done it now. You've...nicknamed him."
Theresa seemed to realize her mistake and covered her mouth with her hand. "The One be with us! What are we to do now?"
"There's nothing you can do," Nathan answered gravely. "Don't you see it? He's already taken off his hat. He's never going to put it on again."
Theresa gasped. "What a scandal."
Nathan looked at her seriously. "How is Bob going to make up for this? I'm afraid we're in this predicament due to his lack of judgement."
Theresa considered this. "I suppose...the only thing Bob can do is...cut off his pigtails."
It was Nathan's turn to gasp. "No."
Theresa shook her head sadly. "Bob insists on it. He refuses to let Sir Bartholomew bear the consequences of his actions alone."
Nathan placed his hand over his heart, touched. "Theresa...I can't believe it. Sir Bartholomew says he's okay with Bob calling him Barty."
Theresa's smile widened. "Bob says he is deeply honoured." She turned to face him. "And if I may request something? Please call me Tessa."
Nathan glanced at her. "Tessa?"
"Most of my friends call me that."
Huh.
"Alright, Tessa."
Tessa stared up at him expectantly. Nathan hesitated, then sighed.
"Then...please call me—" Nathan "—Damien."
"Alright, Damien," Tessa said, smiling like she was glad to know him. And maybe she was.