The Western Records Hall was still burning when I arrived.
Smoke curled through the air in dark gray ribbons.
Servants rushed between buckets.
Guards shouted orders.
The smell hit me immediately.
Burned paper.
Burned wood.
Burned history.
My stomach twisted.
Roland stepped in front of me.
"Your Majesty."
I already knew that tone.
The one that meant he was about to tell me not to do something.
Unfortunately, I had developed a habit of doing those things anyway.
"I'm just looking."
The captain crossed his arms.
"The building is unstable."
"I'll stay near the entrance."
"The smoke is dangerous."
"I won't breathe."
Roland stared at me.
I stared back.
He sighed.
A sound that seemed to have become a regular part of his life since my arrival.
"Five minutes."
Victory.
Tiny.
Questionable.
But victory.
The fire had mostly been contained.
Unfortunately, the damage was extensive.
Entire shelves had collapsed.
Books lay scattered across the floor.
