Dorian finished sweeping and vacuum cleaning the interior of both the studio space and the bedroom and looked over his handiwork with a critical eye. The furnishing was sparse but everything was in its rightful place and without a speck of dust to cover a single surface. Even Max's toys had their own corner. It had been nigh on a week since he signed the renting contract and he couldn't be more content with the milestone.

For at least a year, he would have a secure home for his daughter, a safe environment to grow, play and learn. With the decision, a heavy burden had fallen off his back and Dorian felt ten times lighter.

All their possessions had been moved in and given a spot, he had fully settled and believe it or not, even bought food to stock the second-hand fridge that stood in the nook of their living room. The only downside to their new abode was the absence of a kitchen. But understanding how important it was for a growing child to ingest nutritious meals, Finn had been kind enough to offer to share her kitchen.

All the picture was missing now was a certain someone, whose level of cuteness crossed all boundaries and could melt the coldest of glaciers.

'They're on their way!' Dorian announced, bouncing with excitement after receiving a text from his friend. Finn nodded along, smiling with a forced look of elation.

What has the world come to, she thought bitterly as she realised with sinking mortification that she was nervous to meet a toddler.

The clock's hand dragged by as minutes passed. At the ringing tones of the bell, Dorian sprinted towards the front door, taking up the role of a giddy puppy.

'Daddy!'

A pair of small arms were tightly wrapped around his legs, nearly making him lose his balance. Leaning down and hoisting his baby girl up in his arms, Dorian began covering every inch of her face in affection.

'I - missed - you.' He said, each word followed by a swift peck.

'Dafty!'

'Are you calling me silly?' he gasped, staring at his giggling daughter with mock-astonishment –only causing more giggles to spill from her lips as she nodded vigorously and met her father's stare with that mischievous streak of hers, glinting in the depths of her eyes.

'Alright then. Now have you been good to Mase?'

'Perfectly well-behaved, as per usual.' His friend, who identified himself as Mason, commented and joined in on the conversation as he stepped over the threshold. 'We went for a walk in Regent's Park didn't we?' He looked down at Max for conformation, who nodded wholeheartedly.

'And what did you do in the park, Max?'

'I picked flowers,' his baby girl announced proudly. 'For the house-lady.'

'All on your own?? With no help from Mase?'

Vigorously, Maxène moved her head up and down and lifted a hand to present her father with a small bunch of wild flowers. 'All on my own.'

His response was a light, amused chuckle. 'That's my girl, I'm positive our house-lady will love them.'

Looking up, Dorian saw his friend had taken an interest to something other than them. 'Now I understand why you insisted on renting this place.' Mason talked under his breath with a teasing tone.

He whipped his head around to see what he was talking about, and was met with the sight of Fionnoula, patiently standing at the foot of the stairs as she waited to be introduced, studying her tights-covered feet with utmost interest.

Noticing the attention had been averted in her direction, Finn immediately began to fiddle with the ends of her skirt, pulling on them and cursing under her breath whenever they would slide back up her legs, completely disregarding her attempt to keep the hemline at a decent height. She felt their eyes burn into her skin, and the inspection did not help comfort her in the slightest.

'You alright there!' The friend was first to break the quiet, giving her a wave. 'My name's Mason, but I'm sure this one has told you loads about me. Just dropping off the little lassie then I'll be out of your hair." He gestured towards Dorian and to the girl in his arms. Maxène got suddenly shy from all the attention and ducked to hide herself in her father's t-shirt -causing him to chuckle and rub her back in assurance.

Fionnoula returned her eyes to the man, Mason, who stood towering over them all. With his neat choice of clothing and the military buzz-cut that seemed prickly to touch, he looked the part of a strict soldier. But the wide grin that was a constant feature on his face, quickly brushed that notion aside. She took an instant liking to him.

'Fancy a cuppa? I can put on the kettle?'

His eyes sparkled with approval as the corners of his mouth twitched. He could imagine that even the stingiest of strangers promptly warmed up to the sound of a voice so sweet and velvety that it resembled the flowing of melted chocolate.

'That's fine, love. I need to leave for work in a bit, but I'll come back for a tour later.'

Remembering her manners, she introduced herself. 'I am Finn, by the way. The... err..' she stuttered and glanced at Dorian for assistance.

'The house-lady.'

'Err, yes. The house-lady.'

Suddenly very interested in the "house-lady", Max narrowed her eyes and inspected her sceptically. Bearing the impression of deep concentration, she bit down on her bottom lip. 'Daddy,' she whispered, a little too loudly. 'She looks like the princess from my book.'

Before Dorian had the chance to muster up an answer, Finn caught them all –including herself– off guard by exclaiming: 'My name is Princess Fionnoula of Lir.' and bowing dramatically. 'And who might you be, milady?'

Max fiddled with her fingers, playing with the fabric of her dad's jumper as she retreated into her metaphorical shell. 'Maxène.'

Holding the edges of her skirt and bending her knees, Finn lowered herself into a curtsy. 'Princess Maxène of Dorian, pleased to make your acquaintance. And may I be so bold to add you are the prettiest princess I have ever had the pleasure of encountering.'

In spite of the fact Max most certainly could not comprehend half of what she said, the little girl was literally beaming. It was like the sun pushing up from the horizon, the earth suddenly illuminated in light as her face solidified into a look of ultimate joy. Max wiggled out of her father's hold until she was standing on her own two feet, and Dorian watched in stupefaction as his normally timid daughter approached Finn with ease and offered her the flowers she had previously been clutching in her hand.

'Are these for me?' Fionnoula crouched down on her knees and accepted the small bouquet with a toothy smile. Maxène nodded as she played with her hair, twirling it around her finger. 'They are stunning! Thank you. Shall we put them in a vase?'

Finn held out a hand and the little girl grabbed a hold of it without a trace of hesitance. Before walking off, she peeked back up at her father with large eyes, as if asking for permission.

'Go on!' Dorian laughed, encouragingly.

Staring after the duo as they sauntered into the kitchen, discussing how to take a proper care of the green gems, a fond expression crossed his face. Catching sight of the look, Mason bumped his friend's shoulder. 'I don't reckon there's any reason to worry about them not getting along.'

From the room beside them, he overheard Finn asking his daughter where she suggest they place the vase of flowers, to which Maxène replied 'The tabel!'

Turning back to Mason, he agreed wordlessly.

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Later that afternoon, Finn had come up with a fun way for Maxène to get familiar with her new home: a game of hide and seek. Unfortunately, when you gave kids a finger, they tended to take the whole hand. And so Dorian found himself acting out the part of a seeker ten times in a row, even though Max was always the first to be found and had they been following the traditional rules, she should have been picked as seeker ages ago. Luckily for her, her counting abilities ended at 14, after which she would say random numbers in no particular order until she grew tired of it.

His daughter wasn't the best of hiders. Even a blind man could find the girl with the way she failed to contain her fits of giggles. Fionnoula for that matter, was curiously gifted at keeping out of sight. Of course, she did have the upper hand of knowing the house through and through. Which made it all the less unfair he was being picked as the seeker for the umpteenth time. It was impossible to beat her.

'...18...19...20! Ready or not, here I come!'

Because this was the last round they would be playing for the day, they had agreed to not only use ground floor for hiding places, but the lower ground and first floor as well. Although as it turned out, Dorian had underestimated the reality of that alternation. The house was massive in size and it would surely take him thrice as long to find Max and Finn.

He searched the entire basement and ground floor only to come up empty handed. Ascending the stairs on the tips of his toes, he tried his best to make as little sound as possible. Arriving at the scission between doors, he noted that all of them were closed. Knowing the reception room contained nothing large enough –not even curtains– to hide behind, he skipped that one.

Entering the next room, Dorian's eyes widened. A library, she had a library. Shelves upon shelves ran from floor to ceiling, and the ceiling was high. The books that spanned them were of all shapes and sizes, no doubt holding many stories and facts he had yet to learn. Another fireplace crackled cheerily next to a worn but comfortable looking chaise lounge, and there was a decanter of drink sitting on a shelf near them. The amber liquid in the bottle looked like heavy spirits for the age of the people drinking it. Knowing Fionnoula had inherited the building from her grandmother, he wondered whether the flask had belonged to her. But judging from the near-emptiness of it, someone undoubtedly enjoyed the alcohol with zest.

Making way for the last door, he rattled the doorknob but it didn't even budge. Unlike many other aspects of the house, the elegant lettering painted on the wooden surface did not appear old. In fact, it looked as though there should be a warning sign pasted to it with "CAUTION: WET PAINT". But there was no sign, only a locked door and a name.

Stella

The hand-painted image of smiley-faced stars that surrounded the name, could only indicate the room had once belonged to a child. Of the countless doors he had come by, this was the only one locked. It trigged a sense of curiosity, made him wonder about the person behind the name.

'You are the worst seeker in the world!' Finn's exclaimed words were followed by a girlish giggle and an agreeing 'Yeah!' from Max.

The sudden cacophony of voices jolted him out of the daze he had fallen into. As he descended the stairs, in the direction of their shouting, Dorian frowned bitterly. How could they possibly have be hiding on ground floor? He had searched everywhere.

Not realising he had spoken out loud, Finn retorted with, 'Apparently not everywhere, silly billy.'

'Yeah, silly billy!'

Maxène was starting to sound like a parrot with the way she kept copying and agreeing with her house-lady's every word. And a immature part of Dorian couldn't help but wonder on whose side she was on.

The muted tones of their voices were now much much closer. As he followed them, he realised he had overseen one door. The white pained wood effortlessly blended in with the surrounding walls so who could blame him, really? A sudden silence overcame the house.

'I know you guys are close.' He called out to them, twisting the doorknob. As soon as he stepped into the doorway, a giggle escaped Max's lips and Finn quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

Dorian came to a stop, and stiffened for a split second before regaining his composure. The overload of sunlight streaming in from the room that mainly consisted of windows made him shade his eyes, as he grew accustomed to its brightness. A teasing smile played on his lips as he placed both hands on either hips.

Peeking at him through a tiny hole, Finn was scared he had spotted them, but remembered how well hidden they were. He tapped a finger to his chin, as if deep in thought.

'Where oh where could they be??'

Even though he tried his hardest to sound sarcastic, Dorian had in actual fact no clue of where they were. The one thing he did know, was that he felt less at ease now than he had done whilst searching every nook and cranny of the house for the two ladies. The conservatory, however, was a whole other story; a private space that made him feel more and more like he was intruding. Treading further into the room, he resisted the urge to ask for permission.

As regards to size, it reminded him of a picture he had once seen of a famous painter's studio. But unlike the stereotypical artist, Finn turned out to be surprisingly tidy. Blank canvasses were neatly organised in a corner, not tossed about. There wasn't a single spat of paint to be spotted on either the floor or the velvet, marine coloured chesterfield that was placed against the southern wall.

He registered several blocks of glass, embedded in the floor, which he knew to be the only source of natural light in his and Maxène's bedroom. On the day they met, Finn did tell him the Conservatory was situated right above them.

He had to stretch his neck to be able to look at the copper shelving unit that filled his leftside view. Each compartment housed supplies unlike the other: different sized brushes in jars, oil paints in all colours of the rainbow, palettes and palette knifes, old newspapers, easels, varnishes and other liquids and so on.

Only when he had inspected the entire conservatory, did it dawn upon Dorian that there was nothing of significant size they could use to hide. Most pieces of furniture were placed against the walls, leaving little space for a toddler --let alone a grown woman-- to squeeze themselves behind.

Well, except for the fake blossom tree, that is.

It took a minute for the penny drop, but when it did, he slowly started approaching the faux greenery in question. The high pitched, nervous giggle that was then heard coming from inside the massive planter only confirmed his suspicions.

He snorted in disbelief as he tapped on the rock hard surface. 'Knock knock.'

'Who's there?' came Finn's muffled voice solemnly.

'I.'

'I, who?'

'I found you.'

A small door flew open, one leg sticking out and then another one as Finn casually unfolded herself before being followed by Max, who had a shit eating grin plastered across her small face. Dorian was aware that his daughter would probably never let him live down their victory. The space inside the planter was hardly luxurious in measurements, how they had even managed to get in there was beyond him.

'Let me guess,' Dorian began, seated at the table and watching Fionnoula thinly slicing a couple of radishes. 'You saw the planter and figured it would come in handy were you ever to play a mean game of hide and seek?'

It was supposed to be said in a joking manner, but the house-lady appeared to take his question very seriously. 'I did indeed. Not the fun kind of hiding, though.'

'I- what? You're kidding right?'

'Not in the slightest.' Finn looked over her shoulder and lifted an eyebrow. 'Have you ever had a P.A.?'

'No, but both my parents have one.'

'Well, then you know.'

Dorian ran a hand through the strands on his head and gathered all his hair together before taking the elastic from his wrist and tying it up in a bun. 'Know what? That makes no sense.'

Now fully turning around, Finn sighed. 'Personal Assistants tend to burden their boss with tediously dreadful tasks and reminders of appointments their boss didn't even sign up for,' she waved with the knife in her hand for emphasise.

'Isn't that the point of having a P.A.?' he interjected. So that they can help their boss manage their job?'

'Not, if they're being persistent.' she persisted, sounding an awful lot like a child despite her use of words.

Dorian's eyes widened like saucers. 'Are you saying you hide from your P.A.?'

'I prefer calling it pretending I'm not home.' she shrugged indifferently, happily chopping up the rest of the radishes. 'Besides, I'm using it as a vault as well.'

He briefly wondered what she would need a vault for, but decided against asking. In his short time of knowing her, he had found that Finn had the tendency to never really answer a question.

Briefly glancing sideways to check up on Maxène, who was snuggled into a kid-sized beanbag, he noted how his daughter was utterly mesmerised by the episode of Peppa Pig she was currently watching. Save for the occasional oink she would emit, the little girl was completely silent.

The flat screen television displaying the animal and all her friends, was hung on the wall and mainly used to watch the news on whilst Finn was cooking. He feared that from this day on, someone else would hog the telly during the preparation of dinner.

As Finn finished making the salad, he set up the table with plates and cutlery and with a sour face, Max reluctantly made her way onto the bench. He was aware that interrupting her Peppa time was a risky business.

One bite and he was gone. The combination of smoked salmon, radishes, avocado, rice, lettuce, many other ingredients and a mystery dressing, overjoyed his taste buds. Even Max seemed to be munching contently. Who like most toddlers, wasn't particularly fond of vegetables, especially not when someone would dare mix up vegetables with OTHER vegetables.

If this was what Finn had meant by not eating her food, he was definitely up for a challenge.

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I hope you enjoyed reading the second chapter! Please comment how you're liking it so far, what you're expecting of the story or hoping to read. It might be a little boring now but I promise there is much more to come!

Criticism is always welcome, there's plenty of room for improvement.