She is not my friend, Francis.
Taking a deep breath, Wilson settled into his chair, the room still and hushed around them. He rested his chin on his palm, propping his elbow on the table before him. "I just need your help," he began.
Camilla, her curiosity piqued, arched an eyebrow but remained silent.
"Help?" she questioned, her tone laced with intrigue. "Help for what?"
Wilson leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on Camilla. "I need some books about magic. Would you kindly borrow them for me?"
As Camilla reached for the piece of paper that Wilson had pushed toward her, her initial reaction was one of irritation. It was clear that her master had requested something that had disrupted her expectations for this meeting. However, the respect she held for Wilson and her understanding of the significance of his request kept her from outright refusal.