Laurent led the way though the lair into a room that was simultaneously cozy and vast. He lit a candelabra as he entered, casting warm light through the two-story room, filled with books of all shapes and sizes.

At first glance, the impression was of leather spines and large soft couches for reading, of polished wood and warm candlelight. It was only upon further inspection that the organization of the library seemed... odd. It was a difficult thing to quantify, but it was as though the library had been designed for a very specific organization, and someone had diligently rearranged all of the books. Some of the books were on shelves that fit them perfectly, while other sets of books were either too tall or too short for their shelves, placed sideways and sticking out.

Upon even closer inspection, it was clear which books had received recent use, and which ones were covered in dust.

The dusty titles were about architecture, and Persia, about crime and medicine, poisonous plants and methods of torture.

All of the recently read titles were about history and language, romances and ghost stories. There were cook books and adventure novels, and a book of fairy tales that was worn and tattered from being read so often.