If one were to walk into the Master of the Heavenly Yard's office and personal library, they would find an entirely different (and much taller) blonde pacing around stacks of books. All of his shelves are empty save for one, and she's flipping through a list, occasionally leaning against the desk and chewing on the fountain pen in her fingers.
The creak of the door opens, and she finally breaks her gaze from the list.
"Oh, Heavenly, wonderful timing! I'm sorting all of your books! Originally it was going to be completely alphabetical by author, but do you want them sorted by color or size first?"
@courceleste











