*Horace*
“I’ve never been inside a hotel,” Rapunzel says as we enter, looking about with a great deal of curiosity. “I still don’t understand why we don’t simply go to your house, Horace.”
“My town house is not acceptable for my princess,” I reply. The very idea of bringing Rapunzel into a room festooned with jackals offends me. Nerot’s, on the other hand, offers a suitable level of luxurious privacy. If we cannot spend our wedding night at my castle, Nerot’s is the next best thing.
Mr. Bindle, my butler, comes toward us across the entrance hall, followed by a short man with a remarkably full head of hair, which gives him the appearance of a blown dandelion. It emerges that this flowery fellow is Mr. Parnell, the manager of the establishment.
I see no compelling reason to spend time wi
