"Pardon me, milord, but was there a record in particular that you were searching for?" Noon asks, opening the door to the room right next to Friday's office.
Sunday resists the urge to roll his eyes; Friday could have just directed him to the room herself, without summoning her Noon to do so.
"Arthur Penhaligon," Sunday says. The room is vast, numerous shelves stretching as far as he can see from a brief glance. All of them are full of scrolls, records of mortal lives. "These are all Rightful Heirs?"
"Of course, milord," Noon says. "Those still living, of course. Defunct records are sent to the Lower House for archiving. From which Secondary Realm does this Penhaligon hail?"
"Earth," Sunday says distractedly. So many potential Heirs. Perhaps the odds of Sunday running into one on a random trip to Earth were not as astronomical as he'd thought.
"Those records are kept this way."
Sunday follows Noon through the shelves, hardly aware of the much short Denizens who are bustling about the shelves, adding or removing records seemingly at random. They all pause in their work and bow when Sunday and Noon pass.
"The records are ordered chronologically. It makes it easier to remove defunct records; usually the records end when the mortal in question is older," Noon explains, gesturing at a row of shelves that looks identical to all the others.
"Arthur Penhaligon is quite young," Sunday says, peering at the closest shelf. The scrolls unroll when Sunday focuses his attention on them. Much too old, Sunday notes. "If you have other duties to attend to, I can locate the record myself," he adds.
Noon clears his throat, adjusting his monocle in a manner that Sunday can only describe as self-conscious when Sunday looks at him. "I will aid you, milord, if you have no objections."
Doubtless he has no wish to incur Friday's wrath by allowing Sunday out of his sight in case Sunday does intend to sneak about. "Very well; it will go faster with two sets of eyes," Sunday agrees.
Noon bows his head and begins perusing the lower shelves.
"I was unaware that the records for Rightful Heirs were stored separately from other records," Sunday remarks after several minutes of searching.
"The practice began perhaps two thousand years ago," Noon explains, though he does not elaborate upon the reasons for this change.
Another symptom of Friday's wrath? Sunday wonders.
"Ah, here it is, milord." Noon holds up the scroll. "Shall I have a copy made for your perusal?"
"Yes, if you would."
Noon bows and disappears into the stacks.