It wasn't the butler who normally would attend to letting clients in who opened the door Lorraine had knocked on. Nor one of the finely dressed servants who roamed the building as an unseen army, picking up after everyone, tending to unspoken desires and needs. As Lorraine had found the servant's entrance to the building - and actually knocked, not something one was accustomed to at this door - A young kitchen help, a slender, brow haired, somewhat sweaty boy, opened up, raising his gaze upwards while his jaw dropped to meet his chest. He stared at her, not educated enough to understand her stance in society, not well-bred, certainly not the type of employer of the House to be opening doors to well-standing citizens.<br/>It took a few heartbeats in which the boy, agape, barely breathing, kept staring at her, before he was shoved, roughly, out of the way by a firmly build woman that was trying her best to clean her hands at the same time with a piece of cloth.<br/><br/>"Yes, Madam? May I be of aid?," she said, her voice thick with an accent one would place her, automatically, within the same regions as the boy had been. Though, she was older, wiser, and knew in what kind of House she was serving.<br/>It wasn't all too common for a client to use this door. It was even less common for them to knock it, choosing to barge in as they pleased normally.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, a bit farther, a bit deeper into the building, the young kitchen help had found one of the invisible army he knew, who was kind to him, to whimper at, and, in a hushed manner, confide with her that a Lady was at the servant's door. Something that rewarded him a slap to the face and a hissing from the servant girl before she took up her skirts and rushed to report to the Master of the House, as it was proper to do.<br/>One did not gossip about clients. Whore, maybe, but clients? She'd not loose her job!<br/><br/>Ryan Valentine had spend almost the full day in meetings and was quite pleased with how matters had turned out. His investments were starting to pay off, his grip on the social circles of the city was tightening, the Teahouse was blooming as a rare, exotic flower amid offices, shops and small manors.<br/>He had taken the time to ring for tea and when the knock to his door came, echoing the knock Lorraine had given the servant's door, he thought it would be that ; his tea.<br/>He didn't even raise a brow when the servant girl wandered in. Mary-something. The one with the golden curls and emerald eyes. But wafted her away, after telling her to find the whores who were not taken at the moment, before standing from his office chair and tidied his silken suit.<br/><br/>Most didn't know about the servant door. He couldn't help but wonder who had come knocking.<br/>He'd find out soon enough. First to get the entertainment ready. He was certain this Lady at his door would be properly led in.