The City Library.
This place was better. Quiet. Smelling of old paper and ink.
I picked out a thick tome titled Geography of the Eastern Continent, then took a seat at an isolated reading table.
"Sit," I ordered.
Alicia sat in the chair across from me. She didn't take a book. She merely sat.
Hands in her lap. Back straight.
A porcelain doll placed on a chair.
I began to read.
Minutes blurred into hours.
The silence of a library usually calmed me. But today, there was a static interference.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of Alicia's finger tapping against her own knee. Extremely faint.
I glanced over without lifting my head.
Her face was pale. Beads of cold sweat had formed at her temples. Her legs shifted restlessly beneath the table, pressing tightly against each other.
Was she sick?
No. That movement...
"Alicia," I called out without closing the book.
She jolted in surprise. Her face drained of color. "Y-Yes, Master?"
"Is something wrong?"
"N-No... It's nothing, Master. Forgive me if I disturbed you. I will be quiet."
She bit her lower lip and held her breath, desperately trying to shut down her own body's response.
She was holding her bladder.
For how long? An hour? Two hours?
She preferred to endure physical pain over "disturbing" my activity to ask for permission. She was trying to negate her own biological needs just to be the perfect object.
Foolish.
A surge of irritation crawled through my chest. Not at her, but at the system that had broken her down to this extent.
I shut the book with a loud, heavy thud.
I stood up and grabbed her arm.
"Come with me."
"I-I'm sorry, Master! Please forgive me!" she whispered in a panic, assuming I was furious and about to punish her. Her legs gave out, but I held her up.
I pulled her out of the reading room, heading for the back hallway where the restrooms were located.
I stopped in front of a wooden door marked for women.
"Go in," I said firmly. "Next time, don't wait until you're about to burst. You are a human being, not a statue."