HERA’S POV
WHEN we arrived at Sanders’ mansion, the maids immediately welcomed us, even though it was already late at night.
"Welcome, Lady Isabelle," they greeted us politely.
"Thank you, we really wanted to rest. Please guide Hera to her room, so we can rest?"
"Yes, my Lady," she politely answered again.
"Are we not sharing a room, Mom?" I asked her.
"Of course not. This mansion is huge. Why would we share a room? Go ahead. I'll let the maid take care of you," she said, kissing me on the forehead.
I then looked at the maid accompanying me.
"Shall we go?"
"Okay, let's go," I replied, and she walked ahead of me, carrying my suitcase.
We climbed the grand staircase, each step creaking beneath my weight, and arrived at the second-floor landing. A long corridor stretched out
