[B]Emma Knowles[/b]
It was a rare event that Emma awoke in a comfortable bed. Usually, it was the cheapest inn she could afford, or the guest room of a charitable stranger. When the early morning sun broke through her window, she rolled over, revelling in the soft pillow and comfortable blankets. 

She had arrived cussing and swearing the previous night, drenched from the rain. Only her bag, clutched tightly to her chest, remained relatively dry. Her camera, her most prized possession, was in there. It couldn't get wet. Much to her surprise, she had been welcomed into this home in the middle of the woods. A guest room, a warm bed, and the promise of breakfast the next day. Emma wasn't about to argue. 

She sat up, groggily, and stretched. Emma's short hair had dried over the night, and was now a messy mop atop her hair. She ran her fingers through it, brushing her bangs out of her eyes, and stood. Her camera rested on the nightstand, mercifully undamaged. She hadd emptied the contents of her bag the night before, allowing them to dry. A few changes of clothes, a little bit of cash, and a few packs of cigarettes. Slowly waking up, the young woman pulled on a pair of loose trousers and tucked in her shirt. It was still early, she undoubtedly had time to sneak outside for a quick smoke before breakfast. 

She slipped on her shoes, tucked a cigarette behind her ear, and slipped a box of matches into her pocket. Without any further attention to her appearance, she left her room and made her way down the hall, walking with an easy confidence down the stairs. To others, she would undoubtedly look somewhat disheveled. But that was Emma. 

Turning the corner at the end of the hall, she made her way towards where she remembered the exit being. The scent of food was beginning to fill the house, and Emma realized that she was actually hungry. She had barely made it partway to the front door before she caught sight of someone else. Turning another corner, she found herself standing behind a tall, dark-haired man, who looked slightly lost. A quirky grin appeared on her face. [B]"Hullo there,"[/b] she greeted him before he had even turned around. 

She pulled the cigarette from behind her ear and held it up. [B]"You smoke?"[/b] she asked. No introductions. No asking whether he lived here or was simply a guest, like her. Emma jumped straight to the point. [B]"Smells like breakfast is soon. I was just going to step out quick first. Care to tag along?"[/b]



[B]Grace Sparling[/b]

The rain made her job impossible. Usually, Grace would spend the night in the garden, tending to the plants under the dim light of the moon. But the storm was too heavy to allow that. Sleep evaded her, as ever. It was a long night. 

But just because the night was long did not mean it had been uneventful. There had been new arrivals, several of them. Grace had watched, peeking out from behind door frames and hiding at the top of the stairway, as Kest let someone into the mansion every few hours. If any of the guests had caught sight of the fair-haired girl, they hadn't said anything the night before. 

Things had quieted down a few hours before dawn. At one point, Grace walked the hall outside the guest rooms, counting how many were now occupied. There were no less than seven newcomers. A few hours remained before the other servants woke up, so Grace had tucked herself away into a corner of the home with a book to kill the time. 

Before too long, noises filled the home once more. The servants and the guests were stirring. The scent of cooking food drifted down the hall, and Grace inhaled. With a small smile, she closed her book and tucked it up against the wall. She would return later. 

She acquired a slice of toast and topped it with some eggs, before following the sound of Anton's voice to the dining room. Silent as a ghost, Grace crept in, sticking close to the wall. With her uncanny habit of going unnoticed, chances were neither Anton not Kest would pay attention to her as she stood there, nibbling her toast and listening. [B]"Do you know when the storm will lighten up enough for travel to town? We'll be needing to get a grocery delivery after the crowd that showed up last night. How many would you say there were? I think I'm going to make scones for them, before the peaches go bad."[/b] 

Swallowing her food, Grace's small voice sounded from the corner of the room. [B]"Seven,"[/b] she answered in response to Anton's question. [B]"I saw seven."[/b]