Sharlia finally regained her senses. She swallowed nervously, only to choke again, her body still weak from the heat.
"I, I'm sorry, Saint Lloyd… I just feel very comfortable around Monet…"
Monet, as the user of the Snow-Snow Fruit, naturally emitted a cool aura. To Sharlia, who was suffering from heatstroke, it felt like relief itself.
Without hesitation, Monet condensed a thin layer of frost over her hand. She stepped forward and gently pressed it against Sharlia's forehead. The cooling sensation spread instantly, and Sharlia's expression softened. The dizziness faded, her breathing steadied, and color gradually returned to her cheeks.
Lloyd lost interest in the scene. He walked over and sat on the sofa, his posture relaxed but composed.
Behind him, Hancock placed her hands on his shoulders and began to massage him with steady movements. Robin and Sugar approached shortly after, placing tea and a plate of fruit neatly in front of him. Their coordination was smooth, clearly trained. Pudding stood nearby, quietly observing, a faint click of her tongue escaping her.
Robin moved to pour tea for Sharlia as well, but Lloyd spoke before she could act.
"Robin, how has your mother been?"
Robin paused briefly before answering.
"Thank you for your concern, Saint Lloyd. She is the same as always, staying in the library."
Lloyd considered this.
"By now, it has been nearly twenty three years. I wonder if the book I asked her to compile is finished."
He reached up and lightly pressed Hancock's hand, signaling her to stop. Then he stood.
"Pudding, come with me."
"Yes, Young Master."
Pudding followed him without hesitation.
Sharlia blinked, still seated.
"Saint Lloyd, what about me?"
Lloyd did not turn around.
"Rest here. I will send you back later. If you wish to leave now, you may."
Leaving was the last thing on Sharlia's mind. She had come here repeatedly for one reason alone.
Lloyd.
Now that she finally had a chance to stay close to him, she had no intention of wasting it.
Her expression hardened with determination as she lifted her head.
"Lloy… Eh?"
He was already gone.
Monet smiled faintly and stepped closer.
"Saint Sharlia, some things take time."
Sharlia laughed awkwardly, then grabbed Monet's hand again.
"Monet, do that again. It felt really good."
...
Lloyd brought Pudding to the library where Olvia was kept.
In truth, he had never visited this place since its construction.
With the wealth of the Figarland family, even a library was built like a grand palace, vast and elegant, resembling a castle filled with knowledge.
Two female Golden Armored Guards stood at the entrance. Such guards were rare, all belonging to Lucia's Third Division.
The moment they saw Lloyd, they dropped to one knee, their armor clinking sharply.
"Young Master."
Lloyd gave a slight nod.
"Open the door."
They rose immediately and pushed open the massive doors. Once Lloyd and Pudding entered, the doors closed behind them.
Inside, the corridor was wide and silent. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they walked.
Soon, they reached the main hall.
Rows upon rows of books filled the space, stretching endlessly in every direction.
Pudding's eyes widened.
"How spectacular…"
Her voice echoed across the hall.
In the distance, Olvia stood on a ladder, reaching for a book. The sudden sound startled her. Her hand trembled, and the book slipped from her grasp.
She instinctively reached for it, but missed. Her balance broke, and her body tilted forward.
She fell.
A blur of motion cut through the air.
Before she could hit the ground, she found herself caught in a firm embrace.
Olvia's eyes widened as she looked up.
"Saint Lloyd?"
Lloyd held her steadily, one arm around her waist as he landed lightly.
This was not the first time he had caught her like this. Even after reaching the ground, Olvia did not immediately pull away.
Lloyd studied her face.
After more than two decades, faint lines had appeared at the corners of her eyes. Yet they did not diminish her beauty. Instead, they added a sense of maturity and refinement.
The melancholy she once carried had faded. In its place was a composed, intellectual elegance.
For someone in her early fifties, she had aged remarkably well.
Lloyd's gaze lingered for a moment longer before he spoke.
"You are wearing glasses now. Is your vision failing?"
Olvia paused, clearly expecting something else. A hint of annoyance crossed her face as she stepped out of his embrace and adjusted her slightly wrinkled white shirt.
"It is not failing. I am nearsighted."
She removed her black framed glasses and held them lightly.
"I have simply spent too much time reading. It is not severe."
Lloyd glanced at the ladder nearby, still slightly tilted.
"I will assign assistants to you. They can handle retrieving and storing books."
Olvia shook her head with a faint smile.
"I am still a prisoner. I am not in a position to have assistants. Being able to see Robin every day is already enough for me."
She picked up the fallen book, dusted it off, and spoke casually.
"Robin's Devil Fruit is quite convenient. She does not need to climb ladders at all."
Lloyd's eyes shifted slightly, as if recalling something.
With a turn of his wrist, a purple Devil Fruit appeared in his hand. Its surface resembled the pages of an open book.
He held it out toward her.
"Eat this. You will not need ladders anymore."
His tone remained indifferent.
"Do you want it?"
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