Oh no. Oh geez. This was not good.

Despite wanting to indulge, Menat had been quick with her shower so she could return quickly to her spontaneous guest without anyone discovering him. However, she should have foreseen her master's intuition, a worrying thought that cut her beloved shower to a short affair. And now, standing in the doorway to her room, her fears had become reality. Rose stood in front of her closet, scrutinizing him the stranger. Neither person moved an inch until Rose turned to her apprentice, a tight expression layered on her face.

"I hope you enjoyed your bath, Menat for you have a lot to explain."

Swallowing, Menat closed the door behind her, wishing the Earth could part in two and swallow her. This was not how she imagined this conversation to start, even as she explained the initial meeting with the man, her predictions, and their agreement to come here. After the tale, she shuffled on her feet, feeling her cheeks burn from the anticipation of her master's retribution. But there was nothing, just an exacerbated sigh from Rose.

"I see. And you didn't think to just satiate your curiosity without dragging him all the way here and stuffing him in your closet?"

"Well, he lives in a cave in the woods and I felt bad," indeed that was partly why Menat had done what she did. Which made her worry about the accommodations on the off chance that he didn't intend to leave before the day was over. Rose fell quiet, casting one look at the man, who slowly emerged from the closet. He looked paler; the part of his skin that wasn't green. Maybe he had been sick when Menat dragged him here. She would have to investigate when she got the chance.

"…Right. Well, good for you because I do sense a lot of interesting things with him. So your intuition was not off the mark," Rose said.

Despite the frustrated gleam in her eyes, Menat was over the moon at the praise from her master, even if it came from a mistake on her part. Rose crossed her arms as she looked at the man again, her tone somewhat more welcoming.

"Naturally you may stay here from now on. Are you okay with that?"

There was a slight pause as the man shrugged. A light sigh came from him then as he pushed his glasses up.

"I don't know. I guess I am."

"Then it is settled. Perhaps dictated by fate," Rose clapped her hands together, stepping closer to the exit of the bedroom.

Before leaving, she stopped and stared at Menat; her gaze icy. "Next time, you bring people here, I would appreciate it if you told me beforehand."

"Sorry, Master!" Menat bowed, shaken by the intense stare that didn't let up as Rose continued.

"And since he is your guest, you will be responsible for him."

"Yes, Master."

With that, Rose finally left the pair alone, traversing down the hallway; the clicking of her heels serving as the one indicator as to where she was. Without her master's intense stare, Menat let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry. You must be hungry. I'll get you something nice and warm," she dropped her wet clothes into a nearby laundry bin and skipped out the door, just quick enough to overhear his refusal. With hasty movements, she made her way to the first-floor kitchen, surprised to see her master standing there with a hot cup of coffee.

"Menat," Rose began, taking a sip from her cup. Menat paused for a moment, then proceeded to get some leftovers from the fridge. The allure of food had been alluding her for most of the day in light of her own excitement and now, when it was time to get working, hunger came sneaking up on her like a predator.

"Yes, Master?" she answered as she waited for the leftovers to heat up in the oven. After another sip, Rose put down her cup on the counter.

"I see we both have a vested interest in that man. Otherwise, you would not have pulled such a stunt. I want you to continue exposing him to Soul Power. Keep an eye out for what it does to him. Maybe it can bring some brightness to his future and satiate my own curiosity."

"Yes, Master!" Menat nodded with eagerness and grabbed the heated plates before hurrying to her room.

"I'm back!" Menat announced with glee, not surprised to be met with silence. This stranger struck her as the strong, silent type. Putting the plates down on the small table, she found him slumped against the side of the bed, sitting on the floor with his head between his knees. He was still and unresponsive when she put a hand on his shoulder, noting how cold he was.

Kneeling before him, she inspected him further. She took note of the crude stitches, the green patches of skin, and finally the gem embedded in his forehead. It had been a striking appearance when she met him, but he had helped her and seemed just as alive as the rest of them, body temperature be damned. But looking at him again, Menat wondered if he felt the same way.

Life had been cruel to him; she didn't need her fortune telling for that. Menat grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, relieved to see him twitch and open his eyes slowly.

"Are you okay? Are you tired?" she asked softly, letting go of him to see his reaction. For a moment, he blinked, looking confused and disorientated until it dawned upon him where he was. He looked at her, bemused, then slightly dismissive.

"…I'm fine," he said with no emotion whatsoever. It was a bald-faced lie, coming from a man who looked ready to keel over. Maybe he was sick or just tired? Either way, Menat put a hand to his forehead, feeling the only warm part of him was the gem.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked but she didn't answer him, instead reaching over to her bed to get a hold of a blanket tossed over some pillows.

Gingerly, she wrapped him up. Or at least attempted to. Despite the agitation of his question, he didn't object, nor did he move. He didn't corporate either so Menat ended up draping the blanket over him instead and tugging it in at certain places.

"How do you feel?" she sat down, amused by the visage of him wrapped up like an infant. He withheld his answer for a short bit, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm fine. Again," he finally uttered, watching as Menat crawled to the table and picked up the plates.

"Here!"

After a scrutinizing stare, he accepted the meal, although he merely picked it apart and poked at it with the spoon while Menat was halfway through her portion. Upon picking up the scent of risotto, she had grown impatient with hunger, chowing down with vigor, and marveling at the taste. Moving her eyes upwards, she noted her houseguest had only taken a few unenthused bites, not reacting much to it.

The room was quiet, even as Menat was brimming with questions. Now when they were alone and dry, they could talk but she wondered how willing he was to divulge any information about himself. Taking a deep breath, she started at the most obvious place.

"So, what happened to you? How did you end up out there?"

"I don't know. Wandered the Earth." he shrugged.

"And before that?"

"…I died."

That literal statement left very little room for implication, given his appearance. Its meaning hung in the air like a thick cloud and a ping of guilt halted Menat's eating. She could have figured it out herself, and his expression hardly changed when saying it. One shallow glance would conclude that he didn't care much about it, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings; that it caused him a lot of grief.

She could only imagine the confusion one would feel after encountering the ultimate end, only to be brought back. The latter should not be something anyone would want to experience, not even Menat. And here was someone going through exactly that; it had only brought strife from the looks of it.

"Oh. So you're-"

"A freak."

Tension built in the room at the speed of lighting as a twinge of guilt sliced Menat's appetite into bits. Embarrassed, she cast her gaze downward, feeling her cheeks burn at the shame of her own curiosity.

"No, I mean…I'm sorry. But how are you here?"

"Brought back to life."

"It must have been unpleasant."

"…Yes."

Silence again. He was still apathetic but now that apathy had been joined by melancholy. Worse yet, Menat was still very curious, seeking to know more about him and his conditions. But she struggled to continue for fear of making things worse. It suddenly occurred to her then that she didn't even know his name.

"I'm Menat, by the way. At your service."

The stranger shot her a brief glance before staring at the carpet again.

"…I know."

The tension in the room was still thick and so she sought to alleviate it with a terrible joke.

"That's a very odd name," Menat smiled, not surprised by how he narrowed his eyes. It had been the same reaction he had given when she mentioned the wonders of divination.

Her grin faded a bit, "I'm just joking."

He was quiet, even as he sat back. He hadn't eaten much either, one-third of the portion. Slowly, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking at her once again.

"…Nash."

With the ice of identification broken, the issue of accommodations came creeping and Menat grew worried. Rose had not intervened, keeping true to her word that Nash was Menat's responsibility and no one else's. In hindsight that was a fair condition, given the spontaneous decision to bring him here. The day was far from over, but it had crept past noon and now neared afternoon. Soon it would be evening and then night and then what?

"We better get you set up. If you would follow, please?" she gathered the plates, watching as he stood up. His movements were somewhat sluggish, no doubt a sign that he was tired after what had occurred today. In hindsight, Menat felt a little foolish for not taking better care of him.

When she returned to the kitchen, there was no sign of Rose, only her coffee mug in the sink. It was there where Menat put the dishes, shuffling over to the note on the fridge; a list of chores and errands and who was to do what on any given day of the week.

Luckily, it was Maggio's turn to do the dishes and so with delight, she skipped out of the kitchen and down the staircase with Nash in tow until they reached the basement, containing Rose's collection of wine. Several shelves of bottles stood side by side, lining the walls until they reached the back end of the cellar. One shelf stood out for being empty except for the wooden figure, which stood alone and unbothered.

"Okay so this is our wine cellar but…" Menat grabbed onto the wooden figure, turning it until a loud click emerged from the shelf. With little struggle, she managed to push the shelf, revealing a saferoom that didn't contain much other than a window, a mattress, and a sink. The air was stagnant and sterile, a result of this door only being opened once before now.

"It's also a safe room in case Master's master would come here. Then we were meant to go here while she handled him," Menat explained.

"We?" Nash raised a brow, and she hauled a breath, chiding herself for not properly disclosing Maggio's existence. In hindsight, her plan had just been all sorts of impulsive, hadn't it?

"Oh…I guess I forgot. Master has another apprentice. Maggio! Don't worry, you'll meet him soon but be warned; he can be a prick sometimes," she waved her hands around, skipping around the room to make it more livable, just catching a glimpse of Nash's shoulders slump as he stared at her with a bemused expression.

And so, the Palace of Mysteries obtained its fourth occupant, a change of pace in this time of peace. And for Menat, a new adventure, urban as it was, had begun to open for her; her life's works and the satiation of her own curiosity.