When Julius Caesar's siege sets Alexandria aflame, a priestess-librarian named Neferet swears an oath to keep the House of Life—and its dangerous knowledge—alive. Admitted past the bronze doors by Cleopatra's "sacred marriage," Caesar discovers a room that refuses his power and a woman who won't let him turn learning into a weapon. As wind drives sparks through book-filled lanes, Neferet raises a clandestine network: copyists who mislabel proofs as grain tallies, porters who ferry bundles by moonlight, mothers who hide scrolls behind prayer-filled walls. Into a star-marked chest she tucks a humble recipe—garlic, oil, greens, stale bread—a breadcrumb trail for the future.

Across centuries—through a monk who lies kindly, a linen-seller who saves a circle, a judge who pays scribes with supper, a French engineer who finds a stone that speaks three tongues, and a modern conservator who opens a wall that remembers fingers—the vow endures: Feed first. Copy next. Keep the room whole.

Blending battlefront immediacy with the quiet heroism of menders and readers, The Last Librarian is a luminous reimagining of the Library of Alexandria: a story of fire and patience, of a queen and a general, and of the harmless, hungry hands that carry civilization forward.