Zafron stood in front of the mirror, toweling off his damp hair. A contented smile played on his lips as he reflected on the bath he'd just enjoyed with Madam Matilda.
"Nothing like a good time with Madam Matilda," he mused silently, running his fingers through his hair.
As he reached for his shirt, a sharp knock echoed through the house. Zafron's eyes widened, and he hastily pulled the garment over his head. Curiosity piqued, he hurried towards his door, eager to see who had come calling at this hour.
Before he could reach the door, he caught sight of Madam Matilda's elegant figure gliding down the hallway. Zafron hung back, watching as she approached the entrance with measured steps.
Matilda opened the door, revealing a familiar face – the cart driver who had brought her to the house just days ago.
