Rules, rules, rules.

Lysander blinked. Then he blinked again. His eyelids felt heavy even though the sunlight was trying to force him to open his eyes. What woke him up? Where was he? The evening before was only a blur that he barely could remember. All Lysander knew was that he had been tired.

Pushing himself up and trying not to let the soft mattress pull himself back in, Lysander kicked his feet out and placed them on the floor while holding his head.

‘I’m at my grandfather’s house...my house. It was late. There was a storm.”

As if to remind him, the thunder clap echoed outside which also brought the sound of rain against the window in focus. The room was nowhere near as scary as it was the night before and that was a relief. Lysander reached for his phone, unplugged it from the charger and tapped in his passcode.

There was nothing new there. A few texts from his mother, writing work shop emails, an email about his month’s pitiful royalties, and that was about it.

It was the smell of breakfast that actually woke him up. The author could actually smell it wafting from downstairs. Sighing, Lysander pulled himself up and took two steps towards the door and stopped. He saw that the dressed was still blocking the door. He looked over at the phone charger he was sure that he had left downstairs.

‘Dear god, I’m already losing it.’ he thought to himself.

Tugging and pulling, he got the dressed back to it’s original spot, swung open the doors and almost let out a scream. Charlotte stood there with hand raised to knock, the same scowl from last night marring her pretty face.

“You’re finally up.”

“It was a long night.”

“Hmph.”

She turned, her black dress swishing and gracefully walked down the hallway. She stopped and turned to Lysander who was peering out his bedroom door.

“Your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Oh. Right!”

The young man took a few steps out and a hint of a smirk crossed Charlotte’s face. She turned to face him and folded her arms across her decently sized chest.

“Trousers are required while out of your room. There are ladies present.”

Looking down, it dawned on Lysander that he was still in his underwear and t-shirt. His face turned red causing his brown eyes to appear lighter.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

He dashed in to his room to find his pants.

***

When Lysander sat down in the ornate chair at the end of a long table, he knew that today was going to be rough. Not only had he already made a fool of himself the night before, he had enforced that concept with the head maid who already hated him.

This time it was easier for the young man to memorize the path back to his room and the entire walk, Charlotte did not say a word to him. Any time their eyes met, there was a cool disdain that appraised him like some sort of object not worthy of her attention.

'Grandfather wants me to trust her?'

The young Culfre only had to wait a moment before Charlotte came back into the dinning room and dropped a plate in front of him. The smell of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage filled his nostrils. His stomach reminded him how hungry he was.

Charlotte pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table and sat down. Lysander stared at her.

"Well?" she asked with a sniff.

"It's rude to eat in front of someone else," Lysander explained with a shrug hoping it came off as nonchalant as he wanted it too.

"I am a maid. I do not eat at the masters table," Charlotte responded, the ice in her voice threatening to cool his pancakes. "plus I've already eaten."

Not wanting to anger her anymore, he dug in and paused struck by how delicious it was.

"Wow," Lysander said with his mouth still full. "This is good! I'd love to thank the cook."

"She's gone for afternoon."

"Already?"

Charlotte did not answer but picked up a butter knife from the table setting and twirled the point against her other hand.

"If you are going to live here, Master Lysander," Charlotte began in what had to be a rehearsed speech. "There are rules you have to follow."

"I know. My grandfather listed them in his letter to me."

"I sincerely doubt Mister Culfre listed all the rules you will be required to follow."

Lysander shrugged and tried to give her a warm smile. "He said I should listen to you because he trusted you."

Charlotte tried her best to hide the expression but the young author had caught it. The shift from the indifference to shock and then grief before returning to indifference.

"You would be wise to heed me then."

Lysander set his fork down and took a swig of the delicious orange juice.

"Before you begin, Miss Charlotte."

Okay. Charlotte did not have to exaggerate that exasperated sigh that much but he overlooked it.

"I'm not here to cause any problems. I don't know why my grandfather gave me this property or why he wants me to live here but life put me in a situation that I have to lean on his good graces. You don't have to like me but at least give me a chance to show you I'm not trying to be a problem."

Charlotte was silent as her icy blue eyes studied him. It gave the young man the opportunity to study hers too. Besides the eyes that felt like they could see directly into his soul, he noted she had a small nose and mouth that fit nicely within the oval frame of her face. Her hair was silver but had a gossamer quality that showed it was healthy and strong. He made sure not to allow his eyes drop below the her slender neck because he did not want to give the head maid another reason to hate him.

"Fine."

Her words brought Lysander out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Are you brain damaged or something?" she asked incredulously.

"I was just stunned by your beauty."

Dear god that was a horrible line to try and relax her and it landed as badly as it had sounded coming out. The tilt of her chin upwards, the fire igniting in her eyes, and the anger simmering about her. Somewhere in the kitchen Lysander thought he heard a very quiet, tinkling laugh.

"Who was that?" he asked curious.

"The wind."

"Aren't there any other staff here?"

"They're gone for the afternoon. They won't be back to evening. This place is big enough that you won't run into them."

"Ah."

Charlotte dropped the knife with a clatter and folded her hands on the table in front of her.

"While you are here at Whispering Pines, here are the rules. While roaming around the property, you are allowed to go anywhere except for the following. The Orchards, the East Fields, the lake to the west of the forests, The abandoned monastery, or the servants outbuildings."

"Servant outbuildings? Isn't this place big enough?"

Charlotte did not answer his question.

"There is a building on the other side of the back courtyards after you passed the Sunken Gardens. You are never to step foot in the servant's courtyards or enter their building. Am I clear?"

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

Lysander took a deep breath in, pulled out a notepad and started to scribble.

"No orchards, no east fields or west lake. No...monastery, or anything to do with the servants."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the pad.

"It's my notepad. Made of weather proof material. I can write on it in any sort of weather," Lysander beamed. "Helps me takes notes when they come plus I don't have the best memory. ADHD and all. Anywhere else?"

"Yes. Your room is on the north wing of the manor house. Do not enter the southern wing. Every path to it is posted with a sign so you don't get turned around."

"Is there anywhere I'm allowed to go?"

"Anywhere that I didn't list."

Lysander closed his notepad and zipped it back up in it's water proof case.

"Do we have internet?"

"We do but the signal is poor due to the weather."

The thunder boomed again and Lysander glanced out the window behind him. The sun was shinning in part through the cracks in the thick rain clouds.

"Does it always rain like this?"

"Most of the spring and fall. It is due to our position near the Mountains. You'll get used to it."

Charlotte stood and made for the door to the kitchen and Lysander flew to his feet.

"Miss Charlotte!"

The woman paused and looked at him with bored expectation.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Yes," she said pushing the swinging door open. "Follow those directions and leave me alone."

***

Charlotte was right. There was internet but the signal was shoddy and he barely was able to get enough signal to load up his email. Not that there was anything he expected to interest him there. Moving the old fashion writing desk a bit away from the bay window facing the forest, the author had found another dusty outlet and plugged his laptop in hoping that it would not burn down the place.

When he had returned to his room, he had found that his bed had been made, his suitcases neatly piled in a corner and all his laundry freshly clean and put in drawers. The head maid was right, it was easy to miss the servants.

With his computer booted up, Lysander sat down in the chair that creaked under his weight and stared at the folder that held all his works in progress. The novel that was never completed because of the loss of his contract, a few science fiction short stories, and a few poems. There were a few places he could submit some work if he could just get it written.

Right now, his brain was being uncooperative. He stared at the screen for a few more minutes trying to will words on the paper. That was when something got his attention. Yes, Lysander had been engrossed in the lack of progress in front of him but something had broken him out of his thoughts. The young man peered out to the rain streaked window trying to figure out what it was. It was not the lightening and thunder. He had gotten used to that. Was it something else?

When his phone rang, the author about fell out of his chair!

Scrambling, he glanced at the name and recognized the goofy face of his best friend. Tapping the answer button, Lysander sat back down trying not to shake too much.

"Heya, Liz! How are you doing in your fancy new place?" came the way to happy voice of Lavender Mearcland. He had not realized how much he had missed her voice.

"Hi, Lavender. I'm hanging in there. It's a lot bigger than I expected."

Lysander stood and stretched with the phone to his ear. The thunder and rain was creating a lot of white noise making it hard for him to hear.

"At least you're out of your mom's basement. That was getting pathetic, dude."

Yeah. He knew.

"That place have servants and stuff? You getting wined and dinned like a King?"

Lysander chuckled.

"I think? I've met the housekeeper. She's a bitch but that's about it. The place is so large and they have so little staff that I haven't seen any of them."

"How are you supposed to seduce any of them like those novels you write?"

"Hey!" Lysander said with a blush as the phone crackling got louder. "Those are just stories. I write for a market."

"Sure you do. The housekeeper sounds like an old grouch."

"I think she's my age."

"Oh?"

There was that tone, the "lavender teeing up for another jab" voice.

"She got big knockers?"

"Lavender!"

The laughter that peeled from the phone was garbled by the strong static. That girl always loved to torment him every chance she could get.

"Maybe I need to come down there a woo her myself if she's too much for you."

"Why did you call? It wasn't just to check up on me. I know you."

There was the chuckle of guilt.

"I was calling to see if I could borrow your car. Your mom won't hand the keys over."

"Cause she's a good mom."

"Yeah, yeah. Mine is in he shop for a week. Got in a wreck a few days ago. Promise, I'll treat it nicely since you don't need it."

Lysander sighed. There was really no way of saying no to his friend.

"Sure. I'll text mom and let her know I said okay."

"I knew you were a great friend!"

"Yeah, yeah. The cost is that you gotta come up and visit me some time."

Lysander looked up from the floor while he had been pacing and out the window at the falling rain. What caused the hair to rise on the back of his neck while his friend was still gabbing about some girl she picked up was the warped reflection of someone peering in from the door way of his room. He couldn't make out much but the hair was a purple color. He spun around and found the doorway empty.

Charging forward, He threw himself out in the hallway. There was no one in the hallway.

'What the hell, no one can move that fast.'

The young man lowered his phone from his ear as Lavender continued gabbing and listened careful. Nothing but the wind, the creaking old house, and the tinny voice of his friend.

"You there, Liz?"

That brought the young man to his senses and he brought the phone to his ear, confusion and a bit of nervous energy running through him.

"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry. I thought I saw someone in my doorway."

"One of the servants?"

"No one was there and no one in the hallway. It was weird."

Lavender cackled.

"What?"

"It's an old house. Maybe it's haaunntteed."

Lysander rolled his eyes as he walked back in to his room but a part of him had him push the door closed.

"It's old enough to be. Not to mention I can't go anywhere."

"What?"

"Yeah, the head maid gave me a list of places I'm not allowed to go."

"Screw that. You own the place and you pay her salary. You go wherever you bloody well please."

"Maybe."

"Put her on the phone. I can tell her where to shove her rules if you want."

Lysander shook his head though he did not know why. Lavender wasn't even here though he could now hear her much more clearly.

"No. I'm not here to cause a fuss. I want to see if I can get my novel done for the Moonlight Festival Submission. I got enough stories to be able to submit. I only have a year here."

"Well, if you need a beta reader, you know where I am."

After saying their goodbyes, Lysander hung up and tossed his phone on the desk sitting back down. His mind was distracted by the reflection he had seen. He could have sworn it was someone but there was no one.

'Maybe it was a trick of an old warped piece of glass,' He thought.

Either way, something was making him uneasy.