Sparda was, to say the very least, not at all what she'd expected. He'd carried her all the way back to his stronghold- on foot- and was unexpectedly... cheerful. Lorena had conjured up an idea, an image of a merciless, disciplined killer who razed towns to the ground without a second thought. The fact that he spared her life and didn't kill the idiots who threw her at him (though he did say he might go back and kill them all later), was mind boggling. Flopping down on a nearby couch, Lorena contemplated her situation.

The Dark Knight himself had spared her life- but why? He'd said that she'd "do nicely"- but do nicely for what? For all she knew, she'd just been made a job offer for the rest of eternity. Heaving a sigh, she sat up and took in her surroundings.

The suite where Sparda had left her was made up of three rooms: bedroom, bathroom and sitting room with a balcony that overlooked what she assumed was one of many gardens. It was oddly warm and bright (again, a disappointment from her childhood fantasies), giving her the impression that she had to be dreaming. That, or she was dead.

Finished with her assessment, she sat back and returned to her thoughts. Perhaps he'd spared her because he saw the tactical advantage in having a witch on your side. She could hide her nature from normal humans, but demons... well, they just knew this sort of thing by looking at you.

And she had given herself away by admitting that she'd burned down the church, but that was an accident. All she'd meant to do was set the bitch's hair on fire for calling her a "no good, thieving gypsy-" how was she supposed to know the woman wore a frickin' wig?! The old bat had panicked and flung the burning hairpiece into the curtains which then caught fire...which then lit up the dry rafters and burnt down the entire structure. Lorena'd then been branded as a witch and chained up outside the city to be demon food.

Well, no one ever said being a witch was going to be easy. And given the giant setback she was encountering right now... well, her job had just gotten a whole lot harder.

It had been even harder lately. Several good men and women were executed daily, accused of being "servants of the damned" or "whores of hell."

...It was the Dark Ages all over again. A bunch of ignorant fools lashing out at something they didn't understand. It was exhausting and the thought of it sent a shiver up Lorena's spine. Well, that, but it didn't help that someone burst into the room seconds later- the shock almost caused Lorena to set the curtains on fire.

The woman who had barged into the room didn't look much older than 30 or so. Her hair was a thick, wild mass of black curls which seemed to threaten to eat her face. She was tan with light freckles sprinkling her limbs, cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were an unusual shade of bright green and the woman was easily an inch or two shorter. She smiled warmly at Lorena.

"Hello!"

Lorena blinked, unsure how to react. Y'know, you'd imagine servants to a demon overlord to be depressing and miserable, not... French. The woman continued to smile, though it soon faded as she looked Lorena over. Frowning slightly, she placed her hands on her hips.

"You know, when he told me that he'd brought home a stray-"

One of Lorena's brows slowly inched up her face.

"A stray?" she echoed.

The woman shrugged.

"What else would you call yourself?"

Lorena's brow furrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Should I bark like a dog, too?"

The woman's frown faded in an instant and warm laughter filled the room.

"Sharp, I see. That's good- we could use more women like that in this house."

Circling around Lorena and humming a simple tune, the woman strode into the bedroom and over to an armoire pushed up against the wall.

"Now then, let's see if we can find something for you to wear."

"Hey, what's wrong with what I've got on now?" protested Lorena.

"Oh nothing- if you're going to hustle pool," replied the woman. "Not to mention, you're covered in dirt."

Opening the doors, she started to pick through the dresses on the hangers. Eventually, the woman chose a simple knee-length black dress and tossed it in Lorena's general direction.

"That should fit you well enough, though I'll have to take your measurements. Given the height of everyone in this place, you'd think we'd have more clothes for tall people."

Lorena blinked yet again.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The woman paused in her bustling and looked back at Lorena over her shoulder. She was quiet for a moment as she pondered how to answer the question. Regardless of whatever tactful strategy her brain had thought up, the woman simply decided to be honest.

"I'm Adrienne, Adrienne Leblanc, and for the last 15 years, I've been the housekeeper to our Illustrious Lord Sparda," she replied with a little bow. "That's my official title, anyways," she added with a smile.

Straightening up, she closed the armoire, crossed the room to where Lorena stood gawking, scooped up the dress and ushered Lorena into the bathroom in one smooth movement. Adrienne sat Lorena down in front of the vanity and pulled the dusty v-neck from the red-head's body before picking up a brush. Tugging gently on the deep red mane, Adrienne started to hum again.

Now, to be completely honest, something about the dark haired woman seemed... off. Almost like a feeling in your gut that nagged at you when something was wrong. It seemed a strange feeling to get from her, however, as she appeared to be a fairly happy, gentile person.

"You know," said Adrienne after a moment, "I'm a little surprised that you don't recognize one of your own."

"What, a human?"

Adrienne shook her head.

"Mostly, but not quite."

Lorena's eyes widened and she looked back at her.

"You're a-"

"Witch? I prefer sorceress, to be completely honest," Adrienne replied, "Sparda never would have kept me on otherwise."

While she should have found comfort in this answer, Lorena was actually... disappointed. Adrienne may have been a witch but she wasn't the same as Lorena. Swallowing her dejection, she asked:

"Why not?"

Adrienne smiled wistfully and she turned Lorena's face back to the mirror.

"He's a little bitter when it comes to humans. Don't get me wrong, he's a good man and better to them than most, but..."

The older witch sighed and shook her head.

"Ah, it's not my place," she said after a moment. Perking up almost instantly, she continued: "Right now, my job is to make you look like you're not about to slum it in the back of a van."

Lorena's lips pressed into a thin line and a thoughtful expression crossed her features. She'd heard of humans being more than a little prickly when it came to demons- hell, Lorena knew her fair share. But the opposite? She couldn't really say.

Adrienne ignored her, wove Lorena's hair into a braid and, without a single warning, shoved the dress over the younger woman's head.

"Yowch! Watch it with the manhands!"

Adrienne rolled her eyes and tossed the worn shirt off in a random direction.

"Just finish dressing yourself," replied Adrienne.

Lorena pulled the dress over her head and heaved an exasperated sigh.

"I don't even understand- why all the trouble?" she grumbled. "It would've been easier to just eat me..."

Adrienne's face screwed up as she tried to stifle a snicker.

"That's why," replied Adrienne, "Honesty is a rare commodity nowadays."

Lorena mulled this over as Adrienne carefully wove the rest of Lorena's hair up into a bun. Once she was satisfied, she pulled back and examined her work.

"All done," she chirped after a moment, taking off at a brisk stride back through the bedroom. "The master will be here momentarily, if I'm any judge."

Lorena jumped to her feet and tried to keep up with Adrienne.

"Hey, wait! I've still got-"

"Questions? There'll be time for those later," she replied. "For now, you'll just have to go with the flow."

She paused in the doorway and looked back at Lorena with a warm smile.

"Don't worry. You're going to do just fine."

With that, the housekeeper tossed a pair of shoes to Lorena, shut the door behind her and was soon heard barking orders to various servants in the hall. Lorena stared at the door for a moment before looking down at the shoes on the floor. Heels- why did it have to be heels? Her height made wearing them awkward AND balancing in them was a giant pain in the ass. Sometimes she wondered how people like Marilyn Monroe had managed.

Good as Adrienne's word, Sparda strode into the room (what is it with these people and bursting in unannounced?) moments later. He looked the same as he did before- hair slicked back, same deep purple coat- and he made a beeline for Lorena, stopping just a few inches in front of her. He looked her over, smiled and offered her his arm.

"I wonder why I doubted Adrienne at all," he said with a chuckle, "That woman can work wonders, let me tell you."

Lorena frowned and took his arm.

"Thanks a lot," she muttered.

He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Oddly tame now, are we?"

"More like scared out of my goddamn mind."

Sparda shrugged.

"Understandable."

He led her out of the room and down a seemingly vast hallway. It wasn't massive, but only seemed so because it almost looked deserted. Servants passing by shrank away, bowing and mumbling some form of a greeting before taking off at a near run. Guards and soldiers acknowledged him as Sparda passed by, few saying anything at all apart from the occasional "sir." The man didn't seem to care in the slightest as he walked. He just kept smiling. It was a little unnerving from her perspective.

"You're... nothing like I expected."

Sparda perked up and glanced down at Lorena upon hearing her comment.

"And what did you expect, young lady? A ten foot tall monstrosity with horns?"

"Well... yes, actually."

He chuckled warmly and turned his attention forward again.

"There is a time and a place for that," he replied, "But I don't consider my own home such a place."

They continued down the hallway, taking the occasional turn or going down a flight of stairs. Once they reached the ground floor, he led her down yet another hallway before stopping outside a pair of heavy wooden doors.

"You know, I don't think I've asked you your name," he said, looking down at her again. "You know who I am, so I feel it puts me at a disadvantage."

Lorena raised her brows.

"If I tell you does that mean I forfeit my soul or something?"

Sparda grinned at that.

"No, unfortunately. Consider it my attempt at being polite."

Like he needed any help in that department. She let out a small huff and looked away.

"Lorena," she mumbled.

"Well, Lorena: welcome to my home."

With that, he pushed the doors open and dragged her into the main dining hall.

...Or what was left of it. Various pieces of furniture, mostly chairs, had been thrown haphazardly about the room. The dining table had been kicked across the floor, overturned, and then kicked up against the wall. The chandelier was swinging precariously on it's chain, various paintings had been ruined and the rug was shredded to pieces. Sparda stared at the carnage, dumbstruck and a little embarrassed that Lorena had to see it. His gaze traveled around the room and eventually stopped in the center where two younger versions of him- one in red, the other in blue- were at a standstill. Swords drawn and neither wanting to back down, they circled each other in the center of the room.

"BOYS!"

The two men jumped, looked back at the door and froze, absolutely petrified. Then the chandelier's chain snapped and the crystal fixture came crashing down onto the hardwood floor.