“I’m not everyone,” you remind him.
His lips lift in a subtle smile. “Of course, Mistress.”
You straighten your shoulders and pull out your key.
Fittingly, the black door opens into a largely black room. You step inside, and the butler follows.
“What, the Master of the house couldn’t pay his candle bill in here?” you say, and the butler snorts, as the door closes solidly behind him.
You look around the room. There is furniture in it, tables, couches, books, but everything’s as dark as the room is, and only lit via indirect light. There’s no other person there, no tools, no table – you were half-expecting a medieval t*****e rack. You turn back towards the butler, who’s leaning against the closed door, taking off both of his gloves. “I don’t get it,” you say, shaking your head.
“You kn
