[ Sylvain just shoots Claude a knowing look with a faint smirk on his lips from where he's unpacking things in the kitchen, boxes stacked up on the counters around him. ]

You know, the anvil was your idea in the first place, so I don't think even you can rightfully complain about that. [ He's totally helping. ] And no, Hilda, I think we're good on bookshelves, considering we have a wall in here, another room full of them, and whatever mountain of books Claude ends up hoarding in his own room.