She follows him to the shelf, reaching up to run her fingers over a few familiar spines, the titles of those books like old friends from the many holidays spent here as a child. "Those are housed at our house in the mountains," she informs him with a playful smile, leaving it to him to judge whether she's telling the truth.

Turning to point to a corner of the room with a digital setup on a desk, she explains, "We have datapads with access to the national library as well, but I've always preferred the feel of paper books in my hands. It's more relaxing, I think, because it doesn't remind me of work." All those hours spent poring over official reports and requisition orders, mountains of files needing review and approval - it was much easier to 'escape' for a while without the emotional weight of a datapad.

"As for your question, this is the only secret to the house, everything else is much more straightforward, I promise."