The Kasper Estate was nestled on what had once been a meadow a very, very long time ago. The house faced east, to embrace the sunrise. A dense forest lay to the north and and west, and to the south was a river- or at least it was called one, though arguments were occasionally raised as to whether it was large enough to be considered such. It was the most desirable real estate in the countdom which was why the location had been chosen. Though the Kasper family had, for generations, been elegant lords and ladies that dressed in the latest fashions and could always be found at court, they greatly valued their privacy as well. For them it was not just a home, it was a retreat, a sanctuary of tranquility where they could recharge after long days of politicking.

Since the death of the late Countess Kasper, there was less attention paid to decorating the estate for the seasons. There was no festive adornment wound around banisters, porch railings columns, or the like; however, there were small elegant planters bursting with brightly colored roses at the edge of every step. It was the one costly indulgence the family had year round, rotating the blooms into their greenhouse when necessary, because it had been the matriarch's favorite flower. Silke spared no expensive in the respectful reminder of their beloved departed.

"Count Harrowmark," the chamberlain intoned as he bowed. He looked to be in his late forties or early fifties, which was not itself unusual, but his use of a cane was given that he was not that elderly. Since it was a time of relative peace, and he was not the sort that would be called to serve in battle, any physical disability he suffered likely preceded or occurred during his tenure at the estate. Many nobles- most truly- would have been worried about their images if they had a lame head of staff and would have dismissed him rather than have him greet their guests.

"I am Franz. Please follow me," he further greeted before pivoting on his heel and climbing the steps. He was surprisingly agile; he couldn't ascend as quickly as an athletic Galt, but his ailment didn't have an overly large impact on his speed. "Lady Silke and Lord Vincent have been expecting you." At the top of the stairs he opened the door and led the young count inside, his pace quickening slightly now that he was on firm ground.

The interior of the estate was cozy. Elaborate woven carpets were carefully placed on the floor to give a warmth to the building and there were portraits and tapestries displayed both in the foyer and on the walls of the central hallway that they strode along. A grand staircase curved towards the second floor and there too were many different decorations tastefully placed but leaving very little of it feeling cold and barren. All the furniture was a rich, dark stain of wood, closer to black than white, and the upholstery was in various shades of either a dark blue or green. Blown glass vases were on many tabletops they passed, filled with various types of flowers in all sizes and colors.

Franz didn't tarry or explain the rich history of the estate. He wasn't an impolite man, he was merely following directions to escort Galt promptly to 'the' office, which ought to have been Count Johann Kasper's office. Even before they reached the room it was very clear this was not the case. Out of the slightly ajar door drifted the voices of the siblings who were, by the sound of it, bickering over something both unrelated to and directly related to their guest.

"Vincent, I am not declining all your social invitations," Silke said firmly in a tone that brokered no argument. "Curse me all you like. I've enough to do without coddling your inability to hold a conversation with an eligible lady your age."

"I'm doing you a favor teaching your friend archery! A friend, I might add, is a [i]man.[/i] The least you could do is decline those absurd invitations on my behalf," Vincent proudly rebutted, purposefully ignoring the fact his sister sounded as if she could conjure his murder out of thin air a second prior. "Besides, I know how to talk to any woman I meet."

"[i]All[/i] I do for [i]you[/i] are favors. Perhaps you should ask my [i]man[/i] friend how he manages to talk to women without making an absolute mess of himself. Did I hear correctly that you told young Lady Helene that she had a wonderfully small head? And that you thought that was a compliment?"

At this the edges of Franz's lips twitched in amusement that he couldn't conceal. He shrugged and gestured towards the door as if to indicate to Galt he could elect the moment he wanted to be announced and join the brother and sister. The chamberlain would make the decision himself, of course, if the young man before him was reluctant, but he saw no harm in letting him eavesdrop for a bit either if he so chose.

There was a blustering noise as Vincent 'harumphed,' snorted contemptuously, and made a squeak of embarrassment all in the same instant. "It is true, and who would like a woman with a large head?" the young lord of the house countered, though he was much more subdued than he had been, realizing he had been bested despite not wanting to conded the point.

"It's truly shocking you haven't managed to wed, Vincent, absolutely beyond my comprehension," Silke mumbled to herself as she scratched her quill on parchment, writing a response to an invitation agreeing that yes, her dearest brother would be delighted to join a dinner party happening in the next couple days. It was fine. He didn't know his schedule well enough to object in advance, and once she sent the response he would be obligated to attend if he wanted to save face, which he would.