You woke up in your coffin, the bright sun hitting your face, burning away at your flesh. In a panic, you fell out of the coffin and out of the sun.

Vince, your servant, caught you as you fell.

"I apologize, my Lord. Our guest here has no manners," he said, a bit of distaste for the guest showing up in his tone of voice.

You looked up to see a young (woman, man, person), their striking features highlighted by the bright orange light from the sunrise. They looked guilty.