Blackford Manor (Second Floor)

The family cemetery of the Blackfords is an odd collection of stones, creating a pathway up to a small mausoleum which bears the name Jervas Blackford in large, intimidating letters. On the small headstones you'll find a variety of names, very few of which actually carry the name of Blackford. The largest stone outside the mausoleum is a tall, angelic statue where the name Éléonore Blackford is written with cursive, elegant letters. Despite the general dismal state of the garden, this headstone seems well taken care of. Other than that it's seemingly a collection of family friends and old servants– quite a few of which are named Cherrywood, and... one of them seems to share your surname?

Josephine had risen at the break of dawn at the promise of getting things in order before Mr. Cherrywood arrived. By the time the other new servants too their first steps out of bed, she was already busying herself getting to know the house, walking from room to room with quick steps– her thick heels clicking against the wooden floors as they marched, paused, and she took her time to observe what needed to be done. Around the same time as the others entered the kitchen, she took it upon herself to rouse the only two people in the house that had stayed there for more than a day. She already found Nancy Hoffman to be a despicable excuse for a human being, but it didn't change the fact that she knew more about the house than Josephine could hope to learn in one morning.

"What about the attic?" Josephine asked as they finished their rounds on the second floor. "Anything that need to be done in there?"

"We don't go into the attic, m'am," Nancy replied. "Them's the masters quarters alone. The old goat's the only one allowed up there."

"The old what?" Josephine arched an eyebrow, well aware of her superior status, and more than willing to exercise her new power.

Christopher, who had followed them for the past hour, but had yet to utter a word, nudged Nancy in the side as reprimand.

"Mr. Cherrywood, then." Nancy rolled her eyes, putting her hands on her hips. "Honestly, is not 's though he's here," she said to Christopher.

"Perhaps in the future, Ms. Hoffman," Josephine said. "You would deign to call your superiors by the proper names and prefixes. Unless you wish to be out of a job."

"Yeah, yeah," Nancy said. "Is not as though you lot are staying long anyhow."

Christopher nudged her again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Josephine tried to search her eyes for some sign of her intention, but only saw what she guessed to be a barely contained madness, bubbling beneath the surface. She blinked, shrugging it off– it had to be her imagination.

"Nothing," Nancy replied in a sing-song voice. "Though I hear the cattle's up and running– you wanna check out the kitchen as the end of our magnificent tour?"