The car came to a smooth stop in front of the estate, the gates already opening before the driver fully slowed. By the time Damien and Drogo stepped out, the front doors were open and the staff stood ready.
One of the maids approached quickly, her head slightly bowed as she reached for Damien's coat first, then Drogo's.
"Good evening, Master Clark. Good evening Master Bartholomew."
Damien slipped out of his coat without breaking stride. "Where is my wife?"
"In the garden, sir," she answered promptly, taking the garments and handing them off to another staff member who began gathering the shopping bags from the trunk.
"She and the guest had just returned moments ago."
"This late?" Drogo couldn't stop the words from slipping out.
The maid bowed.
Damien nodded once, already turning away. He tapped Drogo lightly on the shoulder as he passed.
"Well then… Goodnight, cousin."
And just like that, he was gone, heading toward the back of the house without waiting for a response.
