In his right hand, he held a plastic bottle filled with a clear liquid.

The sharp, chemical smell of lighter fluid drifted through the air.

“Commander Carter,” Julian said, his voice trembling slightly. “You shouldn’t be down here.”

“And you shouldn’t be carrying accelerants into a historic archive,” I replied.

I took a step forward, keeping my flashlight trained on his eyes.

He did not back down, though his knuckles turned white around the plastic bottle.

“The King ordered this room locked,” Julian said, trying to steady his tone.

“The King’s head of security gave me the keycard,” I said. “And the log files inside this ledger tell a very interesting story.”

Julian looked down at the open book, then back at me.

“You don’t understand the scale of what you are digging into,” he whispered.

“I understand that someone used an active staff terminal to authorize those transfers,” I said.

“It was a mistake,” he said.

“A mistake that occurred dozens of times over five years?” I asked.

I kept my distance, measuring the space between us.

“Who gave you the terminal login, Julian?” I asked.