CH 44: The Guest
The woman, who appeared to be somewhere in her early thirties, brought her car to a gentle stop just outside the wrought-iron gates of the mansion. Beyond them, the estate rested beneath a pristine blanket of snow, the white expanse interrupted only by the neatly shoveled stone pathway leading toward the warmly lit house. Strings of golden lights traced the rooftops and wrapped themselves around the evergreen trees, their glow reflecting softly against the snow as delicate flakes continued to drift from the gray winter sky. Although the gates stood open, she chose not to drive inside. It felt discourteous to enter someone's home uninvited, no matter how warmly she had been welcomed beforehand.
Stepping out into the crisp air, she retrieved a single bottle of wine from the passenger seat before closing the door behind her. The dark glass looked almost antique, its label slightly faded with age, yet to her it was hardly old at all. It had rested quietly in her cellar for little more than twenty years after being gifted to her by a family whose vineyard she had visited for decades. She could still remember the old couple proudly showing her each year's harvest before age eventually caught up with them. Their children had chosen different lives, leaving the family business to quietly fade away with the passing of a generation.
The memory lingered just long enough to awaken older ones. Long before vineyards covered hillsides, before oak barrels and carefully bottled vintages had become commonplace, honey had been among humanity's favorite gifts for creating spirits. Mead... she had not tasted a truly good mead in what felt like ages. Perhaps she should remedy that someday.
She had brought several other gifts as well—a wheel of well-aged Parmigiano-Reggiano, a bottle of homemade olive oil from a small family estate she had grown fond of over the years, and a few delicacies she thought would fit a Christmas dinner—but there was no reason to carry everything inside immediately. The wine would suffice for now. Smiling to herself, she made her way through the gates, her boots leaving neat impressions in the untouched snow.
The estate possessed a quietness unlike the silence of an abandoned place. Rather, it felt as though laughter had only recently filled the grounds before vanishing all at once. Fresh footprints crisscrossed the snow near the entrance, some deep, some light, ending abruptly where vehicles had departed. The front steps had been carefully cleared, yet thin flakes had already begun reclaiming them, hinting that whoever had left had done so in haste.
She had scarcely reached the front courtyard when something enormous burst from around the side of the mansion. Snow scattered beneath heavy paws as the creature came charging toward her before stopping only a few feet away. It stood nearly as tall as her shoulders, resembling a massive polar bear far more than any dog she had ever seen. Its thick white fur blended almost seamlessly with the snowy landscape, save for its intelligent eyes that remained fixed upon her while a low warning growl vibrated deep within its chest.
Many people would have frozen where they stood.
She merely smiled.
Over countless centuries she had encountered beasts stranger than anything found in modern zoos. Australia alone had offered more than enough surprises throughout history, and the oceans hid creatures that most people would refuse to believe even existed. Yet despite all of that, this magnificent animal was unlike anything she had ever seen. Rather than fear, curiosity blossomed within her as she slowly extended an open hand, allowing the creature to decide whether it wished to approach.
Before either of them could move, the heavy wooden doors of the mansion opened.
A silver-haired woman stepped outside with the quiet elegance of someone who belonged to the house as naturally as the snowfall belonged to winter. Dressed in a perfectly maintained maid uniform, she carried herself with impeccable grace, every movement refined without appearing rehearsed. Yet beneath that flawless composure lay something else entirely. It was difficult to describe, but the moment their eyes met, she felt the faint instinctive warning that only came from standing before someone truly powerful.
"Good afternoon," the visitor greeted warmly, lowering her hand from the curious beast. "Is this Ms. Donna's residence?"
The maid inclined her head with a gentle smile that managed to remain both professional and welcoming.
"You must be Madam Donna's guest. She mentioned that someone might be arriving for Christmas. Please, come inside."
Her crimson eyes shifted toward the enormous beast.
"Fluffy, you may return now. There is no need to guard the entrance any longer."
The great Polar Bear Dog immediately relaxed, lowering himself onto the snow before turning around with surprising obedience. His massive form lumbered away toward the rear of the estate, disappearing behind the mansion with only the occasional swish of his fluffy tail visible above the snowdrifts.
As they stepped into the warmth of the entrance hall, another woman's voice echoed faintly from somewhere deeper within the house.
"Grayfia, who is it?"
"It appears to be Madam Donna's guest," the silver-haired maid answered calmly before turning back with an apologetic smile. "Please, this way."
The mansion was magnificent without feeling ostentatious. Christmas decorations filled nearly every corner, from evergreen garlands draped over polished railings to delicate ornaments hanging upon an enormous tree that reached almost to the ceiling. Soft instrumental Christmas music drifted through the rooms at just enough volume to chase away complete silence without disturbing it. A deck of cards rested neatly on the coffee table beside an unfinished board game whose pieces had been carefully gathered together instead of packed away. A few wrapped presents remained beneath the tree, while several mugs had already been washed and returned to their proper place.
Someone had clearly intended for the celebration to continue exactly where it had been interrupted.
Grayfia noticed her guest quietly taking in the room and spoke before she could ask.
"Please, have a seat."
She settled into one of the comfortable chairs, her gaze lingering on the softly glowing Christmas tree for another moment before turning back toward Grayfia.
"Is Donna not home?" she asked with a curious smile. "Did I perhaps arrive a little late?"
Grayfia remained standing for a moment, folding her hands neatly before her apron.
"I'm afraid not. Madam Donna and everyone else had to leave rather suddenly due to an unexpected emergency." Although her voice remained as composed as ever, there was the faintest hint of apology in it. "Fortunately, they should be returning before long.”
The woman nodded in understanding, though she couldn't help smiling faintly.
"An emergency deciding to happen on Christmas... that does sound rather exhausting."
A quiet chuckle escaped Grayfia.
"Emergencies rarely concern themselves with holidays." She folded her hands neatly before continuing. "Besides... in the end it is simply another day on the calendar. More than the day itself, I believe it is the occasion—the gathering of family and friends—that truly gives it meaning."
"I couldn't agree more."
Her eyes drifted toward the snow beyond the tall windows where gentle flakes continued to blanket the estate in white.
"Before the sixteenth century there wasn't even a Father Christmas, let alone the version of Christmas most people celebrate today. For countless generations it was simply another cold day in winter..." A gentle smile softened her features as another thought followed naturally. "Yet humans have always possessed a remarkable ability to make even the coldest days feel warm simply through one another's presence."
Grayfia's smile deepened ever so slightly.
"They do, don't they?"
Excusing herself for only a brief moment, she made her way into the adjoining kitchen. The faint sounds of porcelain being arranged and cutlery gently touching polished wood drifted into the room, accompanied by the increasingly inviting aroma of herbs, roasted vegetables, butter, and something slow-cooking that had clearly been prepared with extraordinary patience. When she returned, she carried a beautifully arranged tray of crackers, cheeses, dried fruit, and steaming tea, placing it upon the table with practiced elegance before taking a seat opposite her guest.
"I suppose celebrations have always been more about the spirit than absolute historical accuracy," Grayfia continued as she poured the tea. "People have always believed different things and found reasons to celebrate them. Even now, there are many who believe Christmas is the actual birthday of Jesus Christ."
A soft laugh escaped her guest.
"Oh, I've heard that discussion more than a few times."
She reached for her teacup before pausing, an old memory surfacing almost on instinct.
"If I remember correctly... it was actually sometime in the fall..." She frowned ever so slightly, genuinely trying to recall. "I can't quite remember the month anymore though. It has been a very long time."
The words settled into the room for barely a heartbeat before she realized what she had implied.
Perhaps that had not been the wisest choice.
Although it happened to be true, admitting—however unintentionally—that she remembered events from two thousand years ago would make for a rather difficult conversation. Deciding the safest course of action was to pretend nothing unusual had been said, she calmly reached for one of the cheese crackers instead.
The moment she bit into it, her attention shifted entirely.
The cracker shattered with a satisfying crispness before giving way to layers of rich butter, perfectly aged cheese, delicate herbs, and just enough seasoning to elevate every bite without overwhelming it. It was wonderfully balanced, each flavor complementing the next with remarkable precision.
Her eyebrows rose in genuine surprise.
"Well... I certainly wasn't expecting this today." She looked back at Grayfia with unmistakable admiration. "These are absolutely wonderful."
A hint of satisfaction flickered across Grayfia's composed expression.
"I'm delighted you enjoy them. It seems the effort was worthwhile."
"Worthwhile?" she repeated with a quiet laugh, reaching for another almost immediately. "These are exceptional. The texture, the seasoning, the balance... everything is perfectly done."
Her attention wandered toward the kitchen as the aroma of the main course reached her once again.
"And judging by that smell, I suspect dinner will be just as impressive."
"It has been cooking since yesterday morning," Grayfia replied matter-of-factly. "Venison, braised slowly with wine, juniper berries, root vegetables, herbs, and stock."
She blinked in pleasant surprise.
"Since yesterday morning? Nearly two days..."
"Good food should never be hurried," Grayfia answered gently. "Time is simply another ingredient."
A warm laugh escaped her.
"I believe I like that philosophy."
She leaned back comfortably, studying the silver-haired maid with newfound appreciation.
"You truly are remarkable. Wonderful conversation, extraordinary cooking..." Her eyes wandered once more across the immaculate living room where everything had been quietly restored after the hurried departure, allowing the celebration to resume the moment everyone returned. "...and somehow you've managed to keep the house feeling alive despite everyone being away. I honestly wonder what Donna did to deserve someone as capable as you."
Grayfia inclined her head gracefully.
"You are too kind. However..." A faint smile touched her lips. "I should clarify one thing. I am actually Lord Lex Everhart's maid. Madam Donna is simply one of his girlfriends."
"I see."
The revelation barely seemed to register as unusual.
Well... lucky man, I suppose.
The thought came and went as naturally as breathing. Humanity had viewed relationships in countless different ways throughout history. Marriage, lovers, concubines, political unions—every civilization had possessed its own customs. One man having several girlfriends hardly struck her as remarkable after everything she had witnessed over the centuries.
"Then Lord Lex is quite fortunate as well."
Remembering the gifts still waiting in her car, she smiled.
"Oh, that reminds me. I brought a wheel of well-aged Parmigiano-Reggiano and a bottle of homemade olive oil with me. I was actually wondering what someone like you would make with them."
For the first time since they had met, Grayfia seemed genuinely thoughtful. She considered the ingredients for a brief moment before answering with quiet confidence.
"The Parmigiano would pair beautifully with a creamy polenta to accompany the venison. As for the olive oil..." Her smile became ever so slightly warmer. "A few drops over the roasted vegetables just before serving would preserve its fragrance perfectly."
She couldn't help smiling in return.
"You already knew exactly how you would use them."
"Of course." Grayfia's answer came without the slightest hesitation. "A meal should be planned as carefully as any other undertaking."
"I couldn't have asked for a better answer."
"Neither could I," Grayfia replied with a graceful nod. "Those gifts will make tonight's dinner even more enjoyable.”