With a subtle flick of her eyes to the unrelinquished letter in Ordhan's fist, the servant girl took her cue from him without needing to ask any further questions. She smiled slightly, curtsied once again, and took a step back into the house. "Right this way Ser, if you'll follow me please."
The elf closed the door behind Ordhan as he entered, then led him briskly ahead through the foyer and down a pair of modest hallways. Some attempt, it could be noted, seemed to have been made to make the place feel inviting while avoiding ostentation. The furniture in rooms that they passed, while of good quality, appeared well-used rather than merely decorative. Tapestries and paintings hung from the walls, but had an antique and significant air as though family heirlooms, not additions merely chosen for a pleasant aesthetic. By the usual standard of the nobility the estate might almost seem shabby or old fashioned, but it gave one the homey impression of a building well lived-in.
Another elf in servant's livery passed them in the hall, a young fellow with brilliant orange hair and an unmistakable air of mischief about him. He smiled brightly at both Ordhan and his guide, providing a brief greeting. "Good day Ser," he gave one polite incline of his head to the Knight, "Nella," another to the girl, and then was gone as quickly as he had appeared. The young woman smiled to herself discreetly, trying to hide her inexplicable amusement from the man at her heels.
Her face straightened again before she brought Ordhan into a small sitting room flanked with several doors. She knocked gently on one of them, and a moment later came a muffled reply, "Yes?"
"Ser Ordhan Wyland to see you, Lord Piers," the girl replied dutifully, her chin tucked, not looking to Ordhan but to the door while she spoke.
"Well," came the older gentleman's voice slowly, followed by a pause perhaps just slightly too long to seem entirely... comfortable. "Do let him in, Nella, thank you." There was a rustling of papers within as Nella opened the door for Ordhan and stepped aside.
The room was well-lit, and seemed to be a small library, or perhaps office. Shelves that stretched to the ceiling lined the walls, most filled neatly with row upon row of neatly ordered book spines. A chaise lounge and a pair of straight-backed chairs opposite each other created a corridor down the room's center, leading to a large, imposing desk facing the door, glossy and made of some type of dark wood. The desk, however, remained unoccupied; the space's lone occupant looked up at Ordhan from the chaise, apparently in the process of straightening up a mass of papers scattered over a low wooden table that took up the very center of the room. So engaged, a pair of spectacles sliding down toward the tip of his nose, Lord Piers offered Ordhan a wan smile. "Ser Ordhan, what a surprise.”
Piers looked tired, rather pale, but clearly made an effort to dispel that impression, sitting up straighter and gesturing to the chair across from himself. “Will you have a seat? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of your company since you were just a pup. What brings you here today?” His eyes, as blue as those of his younger sons, searched Ordhan’s face carefully.