The rays of the sun were just starting to peak over the eastern hills when the door to Mary's home closed behind her as if automatically. Her servant, a man who she had named Wolfram, awaited her instructions beside the closed door. She had named him thus because his shaggy, grey hair reminded her of a wolf, whereas his beady, black eyes reminded her of an untrustworthy raven.

“Welcome home, mistress”. His voice was deep and reverberated throughout the stone columns in the front hall. “I was worried you wouldn't make it back,” the pause was imperceptible before he continued, “in time.”

Oh yes, Wolfram hated her for how she had taken over his life...and his house. But, Mary didn’t care about whether her servants loved her, feared her, or loathed her. As long as they did their job, she wouldn’t have to punish them.

Wolfram had been with her the longest, so she allowed for some individuality to leak through. Mary had also stopped punishing him for his disrespect. She knew he did it more out of habit than anything else. She smiled at him and asked, “And our newest? Is he still lamenting his loss?”

“No, mistress. I think he is learning.”

She certainly hoped so. After so many years in self-imprisonment she had lost her touch. She had almost bled the man completely when he had told her that this was his house. She would be careful not to let her temper get the better of her in the future.

“Have any others shown up yet?” Mary asked.

“No, none as yet, mistress.”

She raised her eyebrows. He was supposed to meet her here. Maybe he had miscalcualted the rising of the sun...or worse. She would not dwell on it until she knew for certain.

“Very well, I am ready for sleep. Tell Vivienne I will be in my chambers.”