After retrieving his suitcase, Wren entered through the gate. Its clanging as it shut grated on his nerves. Yet, as he approached the spraying fountain, a sense of calm settled in his heart. There was serenity in this place he'd not expected to find.

He climbed cement steps and stopped before two ornate, double doors. His eyes traveled their height, up, up, up. Impressive. He rang the doorbell, and one of the massive doors opened almost immediately. An elderly woman, dressed in loose, black slacks, tennis shoes, and a white blouse stood there. Her gray hair, curled and styled short, and shining hazel eyes reminded him of Ideene.

"Oh, you must be Wren!" She beamed at him as if she'd anticipated his arrival for weeks.

"Yes, ma'am. You must be Hilda." Edward had told him the housekeeper, Hilda, would greet him at the doors.

Hilda flushed, obviously pleased. She tapped a strand of gray hair into place. "My reputation precedes me." She chuckled, and Wren laughed. His tension began to fade. Maybe this arrangement would prove better than he'd anticipated.

"Do come in, Wren. Edward paged a moment ago and informed me you were here. I'll show you to your room."

"Thank you."

Wren tried not to gape as he entered the foyer. Marbled floors, a serpentine stair case, and a large, crystal chandelier glinted at him. He followed the housekeeper across the foyer and through a doorway, and then down a narrow hallway. It seemed to lead deeper into the mansion, and soon, another hallway ran horizontal to it. Five doors decorated its right wall.

"This is my room," Hilda motioned with a quick wave of her hand to the first door they passed. As they walked by the second door, she added "And this is Fiona's."

"Fiona?"

"Miss Kingsley's maid. Though she helps me out when she can."

Wren filed that information. They approached the third door, and as he'd expected, Hilda opened it and went inside. He followed. The room was small with none of the finery the mansion possessed, but it was pleasant. A twin sized bed, a night dresser with a simple lamp, a larger dresser and a small closet for his clothing. A single window was hidden behind blue curtains.

"It's nothing grand." Hilda sounded apologetic. "But it does have heat and air and a bathroom. If you enjoy decorating, we are allowed to do so; Tonya never cared about it though."

Wren didn't care to ask who Tonya was. "This was her room?"

Hilda nodded, rolling her eyes. "Used to be. Her personality was about as drab as these walls, so it's going to be nice to see a new face around here. "

"Well, the room's fine. Thank you."

She seemed relieved. Then, eyeing him for a moment longer than necessary—and patting that imaginary strand of hair into place again—she leaned closer. "The kitchen is closed, but I might have made lemon cake... If you'd like a piece."

Wren barked a laugh. "Thank you, ma'am. I might hunt it down after I unpack."

"Please do!" She went to the door, paused. "Before I forget... Miss Kingsley leaves her room at six on school days, nine on weekends. Mr. Kingsley ordered her to stay home from school to meet you tomorrow, so be ready for anything. Our little miss is feisty, and she's rather upset about this arrangement. I thought I should warn you."

"So I've heard," Wren said, dryly.

"Welcome to the Kingsley Mansion, Wren. I hope you like it here."

Hilda left him. Two warnings in the space of an hour. Looks like it's going to be wild.

He wasted no time unpacking his belongings, which were meager at best. When he opened the closet's sliding door to hang his clothing, several high quality suits stared back at him. He hung his clothes and fingered the black fabric of a suit coat sleeve. Tony must have had them ordered, but how he'd obtained Wren's size, Wren was uncertain. Hopefully, the suits would fit.

He stored his suitcase in the corner of the closet, and then observed his space. Small, neat, and tidy. Now... Lemon cake, he thought.

It wasn't hard to find the foyer again. His trained eye found two security cameras, and he guessed Edward probably watched him now.

But which way to the kitchen? He doubted the cooking area would be located on the second floor, so he passed the swirling staircase, choosing instead to follow a wide hallway adorned with red carpet. There were a few doors along its length, but it was the two matching doors at the end that aroused his curiosity.

He hesitated as he rested a hand on the door knob. It wouldn't hurt to peek, he decided, and so, opened the door enough to poke his head through. The room was large, a sitting room of sorts. Leather couches and recliners sat in the center, surrounding a large fireplace. A flat-screen TV was hooked to the wall above the fireplace's mantel, and, lighting the room with a gentle glow, several lamps sat atop side tables placed strategically around the furniture. Massive windows showcased a thin sliver of the moon and a night sky. Wren drew a stunned breath.

He entered but left the door ajar.

Shelves, built into the wall beside the fireplace, drew his eye next, and he moved toward them. He passed one of the leather couches when a slight, shrill noise reached his ears. He paused, stiffened; the hair on the back of his neck stood up even. He knew better than to ignore his body's sense of warning.

"Who's there?" He strained to hear. Silence ticked by. One second. Two, then three, then...

"Ow. Ow, ow! You're on my hand! Move your stupid foot!"

Wren leaped aside, startled at the feminine cry, and darted a wild glance down toward the floor. Curled against the side of the couch, a young woman sat there, blonde hair spilling about her shoulders. Vibrant blue eyes glared up him.

Wren blinked and struggled to regain composure, for he knew. With eyes like that, this glaring girl could only be one person.

***

Yay for all of you reading! Thank you for making this edit less boring! Ha! I'd love to hear from you guys, but either way, I appreciate the time you're taking to read these updates. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. We're FINALLY past the character introductions. Let the fun begin!

Ariel