Iver knocked at least five times, but no one came to answer.
It was already half past one in the afternoon, more or less the usual time for ordinary people to take an afternoon nap.
But according to the passerby elf, Iver's sister Freya should have had a Netherworld Schedule where she got up at noon.
...She wouldn't have gone back to catch up on sleep right after breakfast, would she?
For a moment, Iver felt a little worried—
Mainly because he immediately recalled his recent experience of opening his wardrobe at home and finding a corpse spawned inside.
Sherlock was a famous detective. He couldn't possibly have some kind of Incident Constitution... Had he remotely cursed his never-before-met, unrelated-by-blood sister to death?
They waited at the door for a long while, but still no one came to open it. Iver mentioned his concern to Sherlock.
Just as they were about to break down the door, they heard Yanis's voice from behind them:
"Iver?"
When he turned around, he saw Yanis approaching with a handbag.
She reached out toward the main door, and a doorknob immediately appeared on it. She opened the door and walked inside.
"Freya hasn't opened the door..."
Iver immediately told Yanis everything he had just seen and heard, then voiced his concern. "Could something have happened to her?"
"Oh, she's fine."
Yanis replied, "She should be busy... Let's not worry about that for now."
As they walked farther inside, Yanis moved to Iver's side.
She pressed a hand against the back of Iver's head and said through gritted teeth, "You brat, why didn't you say a few words for me earlier?"
"To be fair, Master Yanis, I also think disappearing for two hundred years was a little excessive."
Iver said solemnly, "If you don't explain yourself