"Very dutiful." It's easy to tell she was not born and bred an English lady when she says such things aloud, even if her pretty Louisiana accent were not enough to make the distinction. Then again, sometimes it seems it is not so much her breeding as her maturity. Strangely whimsical for a girl her age, at twenty-one she might have a bit more sense.

She brushes some of her blonde hair back off of her forehead, staring up at the sky as if the birds might relay to her how close the car bearing her trunks might be. The birds don't care for her, however, certainly night bluebirds and sparrows. She would have better luck with a vulture.

The vehicles are late trundling up the road but Mary doesn't give up on them for a moment, giving intructions to the deliverymen as easily as she gave instructions to Shirogane.