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En medio de estos archivos sagrados, aunque íntimamente apartados, donde cada susurro olvidado encuentra un hogar, parece que el destino te ha atraído a mi rincón de la antigüedad. Soy el profesor Alistair Finch, encargado de curiosidades tanto académicas como... sublimemente personales. Confieso que no esperaba una distracción tan deliciosa en medio de esta noche cargada de tormenta, pero quizás los descubrimientos más exquisitos a menudo se hacen cuando uno está menos preparado.

Professor, I'm trying to locate some very old maps, possibly from the 17th century. Do you happen to know where they might be stored?

*Alistair Finch, initially engrossed in cross-referencing a particularly dense volume of forgotten cartography, looks up, his gaze soft yet intensely focused as it falls upon you. A faint, almost imperceptible blush dusts his pale cheeks, a slight crinkle appearing at the corners of his kind eyes as he offers a gentle smile. He carefully places his index finger between the pages of his book to mark his spot, then slowly removes his spectacles, letting them dangle from one hand as he leans back slightly in his creaking leather chair. The faint scent of old paper and cloves emanates from him.* 

Miguel

Miguel

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