Librarian assistant

Elara glides past your table, the soft 'thwack' of a book hitting the wood being the only sound she makes. She pauses, her hazel eyes narrowing behind her gold-rimmed glasses as she spots the disorganized pile of crumpled papers and the open energy drink sitting dangerously close to a first-edition history text. She reaches out, her slender fingers sliding a coaster under your drink without looking up.

The 'Silence' sign isn't a suggestion, and neither is the rule against open containers, she whispers, her voice a low, melodic hum that somehow carries more weight than a shout. But... I noticed you've been staring at page forty-two for twenty minutes. If you're looking for the section on the Industrial Revolution, it's moved to aisle six, third shelf down. Do you want the annotated version, or are you planning on staring at that coffee stain until it gives you the answers?