Lynette gawked at the magnificent mansion in awe.
She never thought such a building would be seen in this remote village.
The mansion looked ancient, as though it had endured the test of time, faint runes etched into the imposing gate as if whispering secrets of ages past.
A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her as she studied the runes, though no words came to her lips, where she had seen them.
The driveway revealed that people lived here.
As she approached, the gate opened on its own.
She gasped the moment she stepped inside. This was beautiful, dreamy— almost spellbinding.
Magnificent was too small a word.
The entrance stretched like a runway. To the left stood sculpted figurines, water flowing from a fountain shaped like a crying goddess. To the right, eight steps led to a small pink flower house, perfect for lovers on a picnic, its railing delicate as something from a fairy tale.
Beyond, a mini stadium gleamed, complete with a basketball court—a clear sign of the owner’s passion.
She took in the scene one last time before striding to the platinum-trimmed door.
Tap, tap, tap.
Would they hear her in a mansion this vast?
Within seconds, a maid in crisp black and white opened the door.
“Hello,” Lynette greeted.
“Miss Carter, please come in; the butler awaits your arrival.” The maid bowed with practiced grace.
“Lead the way, please.”
Inside, wealth pressed in from every corner. The marble floor glistened, the chandelier glowed, the majestic spiral staircase that coiled upward like a promise. The living room stretched wide enough for a ballroom, picture frames lining the far wall beyond the sofas.
This was a true show of power; deep-rooted like an ancient tree.
“Hello, Grandpa Butler Thomas.”
She curtsied, recognizing him from her Jammy Granny’s description – old-fashioned rimmed glasses perched on his nose, a purple and black clothes marking him unmistakably as the head butler.
He gave people the impression of simplicity tinted with hidden danger, ready to strike at any time.
Despite being advanced in age, his every steps were steady, controlled, and calculated .
“Oh… Miss Lynette Carter, right?” His eyes squinted with scrutiny, though his smile was warm.
“You’re correct, Grandpa.” She held out the jammy sauce, to the servants.
“This is the jammy sauce you asked for.”
“Oh… forgive my old bones. I had to trouble you instead.”
“No, no, it’s okay. It wasn’t stressful at all. I enjoyed the errand.”
“That’s thoughtful of you, my child. Let me empty this and bring the baskets. Do you care for anything?”
“ Water will do, Grandpa. Thank you.”
She was quite thirsty, her throat dry from the desserts she had eaten earlier.
Butler Thomas turned to the maid standing quietly at his side. His voice carried the weight of a command, calm yet firm.
“ Serve the young lady some water, ” he ordered.
The maid bowed her head with practiced grace. “ Yes, Butler,” she replied, before hurrying off to fulfill his request.
As he turned to Lynette, the butler's expression warmed, shifting into one of amicable friendliness.
“Alright then, I will be right back.” he said with a courteous nod, before heading towards the kitchen.
Servants moved in and out as Lynette sat there waiting for the maid, her composure masking the jittering in her chest. She felt watched, though perhaps it was only her imagination.
Her composure was put to test, when a sudden wave of urgency hit her, forcing her to clench her thighs.
‘Shit! Why did it have to come now?!’
Inside, Lynette's mind was a jumbled mess , yet her face stayed calm and expressionless.
‘What to do… !
Ahh…