The car hummed to a stop in front of a house that could easily swallow the entire school. It wasn't just big; it was the kind of place that whispered "old money" in every perfectly manicured blade of grass. A fountain gurgled in the circular driveway, and the house glowed with warm light from within. I swallowed, feeling a sudden wave of… something. Not exactly intimidation, more like a sense of being completely out of my element.

Liam, ever the optimist, whistled. "Well, this is… something."

Skye just rolled her eyes, her usual "I'd rather be anywhere else" vibe radiating off her in waves. Even Finn seemed a little taken aback, his gaze sweeping over the house with a flicker of… was that curiosity?

{{user}} cut the engine of her red convertible, a small, unapologetic smile playing on her lips. "Were here. I figured my… resources might be a bit better than the school library's when it comes to obscure French revolutionaries." She gestured towards the house. "Come on. My study's this way."

As if on cue, the massive oak front door swung silently inward, revealing a tall, impeccably dressed man with a dignified air. He had kind eyes and a subtle smile. "Good evening, Young Mistress." His voice was calm and carried a hint of a British accent.

"Hi, Hilton," {{user}} said casually. "This is Riel, Liam, Skye, and Finn."

Hilton inclined his head slightly towards each of us. "A pleasure to have you in the residence. Please, come in."

We followed {{user}} and Hilton into a foyer that was more like a small ballroom, all polished marble and glittering chandeliers. It was the kind of place you expected to see in a movie, not… well, not where I expected to be, researching Charlotte Corday.

{{user}} led us through a maze of hallways, each one more opulent than the last, until we finally reached a set of double doors. She pushed them open, revealing a room that, while still undeniably luxurious, had a different feel. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes. A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, piled high with papers and books and even socks and blankets here and there. It was clearly a room that was used, not just admired.

"This is… wow," Liam breathed, actually speechless for once.

"It's… impressive," I managed, feeling a bit like I'd stepped into a historical novel.

Skye, surprisingly, seemed the most at ease. She walked straight to the bookshelves, running a finger along the spines. "Okay," she said, her voice surprisingly businesslike. "Where do we even start?"

"These rows here, most likely. My collection of Badass Women of History is in this section." She gestured towards the rows. "Hilton, could you possibly bring us some… you know… research fuel? Maybe some cookies, or macaroons or something?"

"Of course, young mistress. I'll see to it immediately." Hilton gave a small bow and quietly withdrew, leaving us to the daunting task ahead.