The largest lounge has always drawn gasps from people when they see it for the first time. The oversized doors swing open at the touch of a finger. An enormous Marian Cross is laid into the floor in a rich and intricate pattern, and the wood fairly glows from the inside, as if it is begging for someone to dance over it. A masterpiece of a grand piano gleams in a corner. The vibrant silk wall hangings, never allowed to gather even a speck of dust to dull their sheen, still manage to bring an almost cozy feeling to a room which, without a hundred people in it, seems too large for its own good.

Cross's lavish, days-long parties will be missed by many, Allen is quite sure of it. There's a disparaging quality to his tone that he can't help, but it is hollowed out by the room. "As you can imagine," he says as he leads them in, "Cross was fond of entertaining."

Lavi's whistle echoes off the parquet. "No kidding."

"There's a billiard room as well," Allen continues, noting the glint of interest in Lavi's eye and tucking that away as a suggestion for later. Something to do if things get awkward; from the looks of things so far it seems inevitable. Allen represses a sigh. "Of course, it's not in the part of the house one might expect; it's behind the kitchen. Close to the back door." He shakes his head. "We'll get to that in a bit, on the way outside, naturally."

The part of showing guests around the villa is familiar, a more or less rote presentation of the house and the grounds that was always left to him when Cross had visitors: the first part of this place that he felt proprietary about. It helps him put aside the sinking feeling that Lavi's quiet demeanor and Kanda's perpetual look of incuriosity are somehow his own fault. He takes a last look around.

"I don't know what I'll use this room for now," he adds. "I don't, um." He pauses. The wedding, he thinks. He is suddenly exhausted. "Let's skip the rest of this and get to the library."

A bemused expression has been playing over Lavi's face since Allen picked them up at the station, but it disappears as he straightens up and shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels a bit. It's an old mannerism, one that Allen knows from experience means he's dying to hear more and trying not to show it, just as he knows that Lavi's chin in his hand and a bored look on his face mean he's actually paying his closest attention. Kanda is examining the floor.

"And after that, the grounds," Allen says, recalling also how Kanda would come in from the training grounds at Headquarters flushed and still out of breath sometimes, just as Allen was making an appearance for breakfast. Something flutters in Allen's stomach. "There are horses."

Kanda looks up at Allen, meeting his gaze for the first time since they got off the train. The fluttering flares upward and settles as an aching lump in Allen's throat.

Allen swallows and nods at him, his face carefully neutral, remembering how a smile always brought on a scowl from Kanda. He isn't quite prepared to deal with that yet if he can help it. "Come on," he says. "Let's go."