Ugh, sorry I haven't updated in a while, I had a bunch of tests and I was studying practically every day. Thanks to my reviewers and everyone else who's read the story so far. Chapter 2 was kinda on the skimpy side. I tried to write as much as I could before buckling down on homework, but this chapter is longer, I promise.

Chapter Three

"Miss Miller," a voice called. I turned my head away, whatever it was would have to wait. I was too comfortable just now to…

"Miss Miller".

No need to be so formal, Samantha will do. I thought sleepily.

"Miss Miller. Wake up." I slowly opened my eyes, and looked up at the speaker, slightly disoriented. Okay, very disoriented; so much so that for a moment I wondered why my bed was being driven by a trim-looking British man. Then I remembered, the plane ride, England, Mr. Farrow. The person in question turned his eyes back to the road in front of him once he realized I was awake.

"We'll be arriving at Mr. Thompson's residence in ten minutes, if you'd like to freshen up." I nodded, hastily running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to get all the knots out. I pulled my compact out of my purse and glanced into it. Not bad, I thought to myself. You only look like you've been sleeping for five days straight instead of fifty. I shoved the mirror back into my bag and looked out the window. We were driving through a heavily forested area on something that might have been called a road back when it was first built. The path was only just large enough to accommodate the automobile we were in and seemed to have been long forgotten by even the hikers and bike enthusiasts. I looked back, expecting to see a hint of civilization peaking through the trees, but the forest had us surrounded. I faced front again.

"Where are we?" I asked, yawning.

"We're currently driving through the Argyre Forest, part of Mr. Thompson's estate." Mr. Farrow replied over his shoulder.

He. Owned. His Own. Forest. I could hardly get my mind to process it.

"How long have we been driving through? I asked nonchalantly, like all my friends had their own private woodland in the backyard.

"Forty-five minutes, I believe."

Good Lord, We weren't even at Alexander's home yet and already his property was larger than a housing development.

"The forest will give way to a view of the house in a few moments." Jonathan added before focusing his attention on the road once again.

I didn't want to pester him with any further questions, for the moment at least, so I followed his example and stared out the window. As I began to drift back into a comfortable sleep, the flora and fauna zooming past, I happened to look ahead. What I saw pushed away all fatigue and I let out an audible gasp.

Up ahead the forest ended and the small track we had been following transformed into a well kept dirt road. The road was bordered on either side by rolling hills covered in the greenest grass I had ever seen. The sun, before so unbearable to my tired eyes, now glinted and sparkled in the sky casting a glow that made the earth shine like emeralds.

"It's beautiful." I breathed. Jonathan nodded in approval.

"Wait until you see the house, Miss." He said, chuckling.

There was a pause, "You can call me Samantha, if you like." I suddenly blurted out. He was probably sick of calling a girl half his age "Miss", like she was the Queen of Sheba or something.

"Thank you… Samantha. But, I must decline, formalities have become a bit of a habit of mine. Besides," He said with a smile, "I would probably forget." He didn't sound like he was making excuses, and I knew he didn't really mind either way.

"Oh, okay." I said, leaning back in my seat, comfortable once more.

"Unless, of course," Mr. Farrow added, mistaking my tone. "You find it disconcerting."

"No, no," I said, quickly. "I don't mind. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to, that's all." He nodded once and we sat in silence for a while longer.

About ten minutes later we came to a bend in the road, and as we turned the corner I saw something white glinting on a hill. It was a house. Well, house, is an understatement. That was like calling the Palace of Versailles a small lean-to. This was a mansion, practically a castle. As we came closer I could see that it was more of a chateau than anything. The residency jutted out rather than up and from where I was I could see five chimneys growing, like stone trees, from a blue colored roof.

As we came closer to the grand house I caught sight of a stone wall encircling it. I instantly disliked that wall, it seemed out of place. I felt like it was blocking out all the warmth and color we were passing by, pushing it back and away. You're being silly. I told myself. It's just a wall, with such a large estate it would be silly not to put something around it to keep people out. Besides, compared to the house it's practically a picket fence. But I didn't like it all the same.

Instead of hard packed dirt the car began to drive over small white pebbles that covered the ground. The road took us straight up to the wall and I saw thick wrought iron gates blocking our way. The gateway was beautiful, a dark gray color that had been designed in such a way that it looked like roses had been woven in and out of the metal bars. On either side of the gate there were tall, thick square stone pillars, each with a lion standing on top. The one on the left seemed to snarl and paw at the ground, as if it were preparing to strike down anyone who dared slip past it without permission, but the one on the right was different. I couldn't say how or why, it looked just as strong and willing to fight as its brother did, but there was a sort of goodness carved into this lion, that could not be found in the other one.

Mr. Farrrow must have had some sort of electronic key with him because the gates opened automatically as we pulled up to them. We passed through and I heard the sound of them clanging shut behind me. The noise echoed in my head and I felt strangely claustrophobic for a moment, but as quickly as the feeling came it was gone.

The grounds were beautiful; there was nary a leaf or twig out of place. I felt like I had just walked into a painting done by a master artist. The house, what with its blue roof and sheer enormousness, seemed almost a part of the sky itself. There were two rounded towers that jutted out of the architecture and a countless number of windows. The car pulled to a stop and Jonathan came to open my door for me, but I was already out, stretching my tired legs and staring up at the building in front of me. Finally, I had arrived.

Well we've made it to England and Alexander's house. Hurrah! I hope none of you have felt like it's a whole lot of nothing so far. We'll meet Alexander soon enough, and I'm toying with the idea of having him narrate a few chapters. As always review! Don't hold back… well hold back a little bit Sooo, that's about it. I'm working on chapter four this very minute.