Pausing before opening the door, Marilyn knew her History teacher would it her another minute or two, a pale finger rose to tap her chin. Half-turning to glance out the now frosted window, she nodded before focusing her gaze on Artemis. 

"The storm should delay her a bit the roads are hard to navigate the begin with. She'll probably arrive by seven at the latest, tell our gardener to check the flowers in the greenhouse before taking the rest of the day off. A chessboard is to be placed in the receiving room that's beside my study on the east wing, also do let Eros out for a bit. He's either under my bed or lurking about, he needs to move around a bit. I'll see you later then Artemis." With a nod, she reached for the door and pushed it open, stepping into the room and allowing the door to close softly behind her. 

[hr] 

Avelina began to clean as told, a shot tune filling the air as she easily moves from one place to another, once finished here she'd go clean Miss Marilyn's room before going to the kitchen and waiting for their visitor. 

She was excited to see who it'd be. 

[hr]

By the time she arrived at the estate, Margaret had just about enough of snow and the frigid cold air. Night had fallen and while she'd be able to doze on and off, she felt better knowing that she'd be attended to as she deserved. Exiting the carriage and briskly walking towards the main doors, Margret nearly slamming her gloved hands against the door for it to open. 

She'd almost tripped on the steps getting there, she wasn't one to wait patiently, when the door opened a crack she all but shoved her way inside. The squeak and sound of someone falling drew her gaze away from the main entryway, her golden eyes locked on a girl that slowly rose to her feet. Crimson eyes flashing as the girl rubbed her right arm, Margaret offers a bland look and a raised brow.

"Where's my little Mari?" She shouted into the silence of the estate, her expression smoothing out as a well-practiced small etched itself across her ruby lips. The maid huffed softly and turned on her heel, gesturing with a flick of her wrist to follow. Internally rolling her eyes, Margaret followed the girl, eyes lingering on each lavish painting and vase that they made their way further down the corridor. 

Hopefully by the end of the night, she'd have money in her purse. [@pyroman]