The dirt lane was one of the best features to the estate - it stretched out from the parting trees and sloped up to meet the veranda, affording those inside the modest dwelling the ability to assess any guests coming up their drive.
In this case, she had heard the visitor before seeing him - rather, she had heard the distant whicker of his horse. It's an envoy from the Grand Archduchy, most likely. He was alone, but she had learned by now not to trust appearances. She waited until he was a few yards from the porch before swinging open the door.
Seraphine is quite pleased to find the plan rolling as she and the others expect it to be. It appears like Historia has taken the bait – she really sent some of her people to trail after her when she left the tavern a couple of hours ago.
