It takes another ten minutes of restless pacing and impatient foot tapping before Chanyeol sees the housekeeper limping down the path towards him. He’s an old, grumpy man, back hunched into a curve, face set into a permanent scowl, and Chanyeol hardly has time to take off his hat to greet him properly before he finds himself stumbling through the gates. The housekeeper’s grip on his arm is surprisingly strong, short, thick fingers digging into his forearm as he’s yanked along, and it hurts but Chanyeol keeps quiet as he tries his best not to trip over stray rocks and pebbles, silently observing the grotesque carvings of gargoyles and hounds that framed the entrance to the building.