It was Miru's wish that I meet her father, but the servants told us he could not be disturbed.
"Important business, I'm sure," Miru told me, with a particularly intoxicating dimpled smile. "We shall see him tomorrow."
But the next day I did not meet Miru's father, nor again the day after that. After some weeks it occurred to me to wonder if there was a master of the house at all.
Not that I had much time for idle thoughts. Every morning I was dragged from my bed by an elderly domestic called Mildred, who bathed and dressed me despite my most vigorous protestations. I was then rushed off to Miru, who with a look dissolved any lingering resentment. She took my hand and we breakfasted together. Then she would always gasp, realizing there was some new part of the house she had to show me.
Not that I trusted her. I was not that naive. Still, what harm could it do to follow? I had so much power. If I had to, I could kill her with a thought.
But I didn't want to. Even Lucifer had to admit, her home was fascinating. For the first week, whenever Miru showed me something new, he drew a map behind my eyes, keeping everything straight so I would know if I had to escape. He stopped when he realized the layout was impossible - some rooms would have to occupy three or four places at once.
"We should run," he whispered darkly. But I didn't run.