[color=92278f][i][b]Anita Morgan - Scullery Maid[/b][/i][/color]

While it had been late night for the guests when they had arrived, it had been early morning for Anita, albeit, a much earlier morning than usual but not by more than a few hours. She was normally up before the dawn to begin work for the day, and with the guests arrival the first work was that of tending to their soggy clothes and the dripping puddles that they scattered about as they wearily tried to navigate the manor's twisting halls.

She'd mopped up what she could as soon as they had arrived while Kest saw to their needs and got them settled into rooms, but still the foyer would need to be cleaned.. an impossible an unending task in this weather. But she'd had to put that aside as the guests laundry was deposited into her care. 

She'd spent most of that night (early morning) in the laundry room, next to the root cellar in the basement. The boiler was old, but it worked well enough to produce scalding hot water for the tub, and the hot press steam dryer would be the only way the close would get dry in this weather, requiring many repetitions to rid it of all the damp. Anita was well worn out by the end of it all, her hands chapped and her face flushed and sweaty from all the steam... she barely felt the heat though, she was always unbearably warm these days.

It was hard physical work, but she had come to not mind it so much. Physical labor gave her an outlet for her frustrations and aggressions in a manner that would not gain her the attention of the Mistress. And she was able to indulge her curiosity... by getting to go through the guests pockets. All of the things found would be returned of course, while theft itself may not earn her the Mistress's ire upsetting the guests surely would, and all the found things would be placed on the dresser bureau where they could be easily be returned to the pockets from which they'd been removed. 

Crisply folded and freshly pressed, Anita returned the clothes and items to their respective owners rooms while they slept. Nimbly navigating the rooms, deftly over haphazardly discarded shoes and stepping as silently as possible. Not that it would have mattered for the most part, the guests would sleep deeply this night- however restfully it would be. 

Finished with the laundry she made her way through the halls right as the guests were beginning to wake and the smell of food wafting through the air. Anita frowned, she had hoped to tend to the grimy foyer before Anton cooked breakfast for the guests... it appeared that the laundry had taken longer than she'd hoped. She had been up for hours with no respite and no breakfast of her own, the foyer would have to wait a bit. 

As she descended the hall she could hear the sound of new voices, the guests up and about being lured from their beds by Anton's cooking. Shamelessly eavesdropping she listened to their conversation as she approached them unseen and she heard a voice, that of a young woman speaking.

[i]"Be seeing you at breakfast. Name's Emma, by the way. Door's over this way, if I remember."[/i]

Turning the corner, Anita got a full view of the speakers, that of a scruffy unkempt ruffian of a young woman and a man, as well as a view of the door they were approaching with the intent of entering.... It was a rather large and ornate door, better fitting as an entryway... only this door did not lead to the common areas, or anywhere near the dining room or the kitchens. This door was the entrance to a wing of the manor they had been warned against entering without express permission. The wing with the Mistress's suite.

"Stop," She hissed as the guest's hand barely grazed the doors handle. Anita clutched her empty hamper before her with a white knuckled grip, "What do you think you are doing, wandering about here? This is the Mistress's wing."

Biting her tongue, she tried to reign in her temper as it shortened, her plush lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure. The guests wouldn't know their way around the manor, and vague directions half remembered after a trying night was just cause for innocent mistakes. 

"Breakfast will be served in the dining hall soon," Antia said in a much more cordial tone that had at the very least lost a bit the irritated bite that had been in it before, "I would be happy to lead you there. The Manor is a bit difficult to navigate if you don't know your way about."