"Lord Aiden himself, but he's so busy these days. You could ask him to grant you an audience. Or, there are the hold records. They're not secret, by any means, but they're set away where the childlings won't paw through them with sticky jam hands and such. I beleive Art may know where to find them, he's made a project of organizing the discorganization that passes for storage around here." A sniff, "After all, MY influence ends on the main floor, I don't touch those old store rooms." She leans in and murmurs to Gwen, "Too many dang twisty stairs, and no one even appreciates if it is organized or not." Even quieter, "We'd do well with a sluagh to mind those rooms, but ah, Art will have to do. And he does well enough, a fine lad."