Carlisle's Words Were Indeed True

The doors of the throne room were pushed open.

Edmund entered and bowed before Alexander, then announced. "Your Majesty, Mr. Harry Goldwing from the nation's archives is here."

"Send him in." Alexander commanded, his focus remaining steadfast on the parchments laid out on his laps, the weight of his duties evident in his demeanour. There was no hurry to finish them in a day but he wanted to. One less job for the morrow was not evil.

"Yes, Sire." The manservant departed and swiftly returned, ushering in a fairly tall man who had too much jewellery on and not enough hair to cover the scalp of his head. He stopped halfway, bowing, before continuing on to meet Alexander.

"I received your note, Your Majesty, and devoted the better part of the night scouring through the archives for the names you wanted." The man began, his voice carrying an air of diligence and urgency. "I was determined not to delay your reason for the search."