Renate slept before the fire most nights, only sharing the bed with the Marquis in the Winter, when he did not have company, and on Pavi's entrance she lifted her head from her resting place on the carpet and uttered a low growl. She sniffed the air, though, and the sound died down with a small whistling whine as she seemed to recognize him -- his scent was one she picked up on only a few of the things the Marquis owned, from when she'd been much younger, and was the scent of a mate, most assuredly, so she lay her head down again, eyes following him as he made his way to the back room.

"Mm?" The Marquis turned over in bed -- he'd drunken wine before retiring, and so his slumber was quite heavy. He was not unaccustomed to visitors in the night, sometimes -- which was not his reason for leaving the door unlocked. He had simply forgotten. But it was this reason he did not immediately open his eyes, and his brain was too addled with sleep and drink to realize it had been quite some time since anyone had called him that.