His ever-dedicated manager almost never asked for help. And when she did, it was always something related to Alrova Merchant House.
So if Hilda was asking now—judging from the look on her face—it had to be something serious.
Of course, Gara wasn't going to refuse her outright. No matter how difficult her request might be, he had to at least listen.
"What help do you need?"
Hilda's hands, resting stiffly at her sides, clenched into the fabric of her dress. She looked uneasy. So unlike the Hilda he knew.
"First… I want to apologize, Master." She lowered her head, guilt written all over her face.
"Alright. Why are you apologizing?" Gara asked calmly, while lifting a finger. A thin stream of water flowed from his fingertip, gliding across the air into a cup on the shelf.
The cup filled, then floated over to Hilda, carried by his water.
