The dust in the old cupboard was making her eyes water and giving her the sniffles. Muttering to herself about housekeeping, Joylah keeps hunting. The scroll she was looking for had to be stored in one of the boxes still unpacked from her last move� wedding congratulations (from two weddings!), various love letters, various hate letters� gods above and below, didn't she throw anything out? Sorting through them all was a slow task, since she just had to read each to see what they were, taking time to laugh or cry.

"Ah ha!" sitting back on her heels, she smears some dust across her cheek with the back of her hand as she pushes her hair out of her eyes, trying to get a better look at the scroll she uncovered.

'My Legacy' was barely legible in faded ink, but enough that she knew she'd finally found the scroll she was searching for, it was rumpled and the parchment looked to be flaking from neglect. The age of it surprises her, and she tries to recall how long ago Bert's execution had been. 'Bert', just thinking about the pet name she'd christened The Shadow with makes her giggle for a moment.

Frowning slightly as she stands, she carries the parchment to her desk, absently dusting off her fanny as she walks. She tries to remember if she'd ever had anyone look at the scroll, before. At the time there had to have been a good reason why she kept it and didn�t turn it over to someone who might have been interested in it. Rake had never said she shouldn't show it to someone when he gave it to her, she couldn't honestly remember him saying much of anything other then he thought she might like it. Damned if she could remember why that was, now, though.

Shoving a few things over on her cluttered desk to make some room to spread out, she very carefully unfurls the parchment scroll, her eyes scanning quickly over the text. Then she giggles.

Now she remembers why she never bothered to give the scroll to anyone. It seemed to her, now and more then likely at the time as well, that it was just more of Bert's disinformation. But� was it?

She'd tried asking Galen about the Books of Sin. The look he gave her when she broached the subject made her wonder even more at the wisdom of keeping this scroll a secret. Unfortunately, the call to the Castle by Thomas had broken the thread of their conversation and she'd never had the chance to mention the scroll, again. But he'd told her enough that now she was second-guessing her decision to keep the scroll now spread out on her desk to herself.

Tipping back in her chair, she let the scroll re-furl itself as she taps a manicured nail against her lower lip, deep in thought until a valued customer arrives for his fitting. The scroll momentarily forgotten on her desk, the seamstress returns to work.