They were mostly Lalita's, the old books and letters that she had brought with her to the mountains on carts pulled by donkeys, wrapped up and swaddled better than some people did with their children. Then after that too. But Jayati had some love for it too, and collecting things even after her death. "I enjoy history, but I think I've always been more content sitting around a table and listening to people tell their own than to read about it." She admitted, knowing to Mircea, who was surely a voracious reader, this probably made her sound uneducated, or too short of an attention span. "One of my people said I should try podcasts."
Her head tilted at him, curiosity and surprise on her features. Jayati knew he was old, even if she didn't know exactly how old, but sure old enough to come to terms with what he was? If that was even the right phrasing for it, "How so?"