The petals of hundreds more roses stick to my soles and toes as I’m marched through a door, through an anteroom, down a dimly lit hallway or two and eventually up an unobtrusive spiral staircase. Even though these are clearly servants’ passageways, everything is superbly kept and of the finest materials and craftsmanship. Still that path of petals continues upward, toward the soft yellow light of an opened door.
Tawny tugs me by the testicles up the last few steps and though that surprisingly narrow opening. Beyond is a housekeeping closet. From there that road of roses leads on through another door and at last into the most fantastically lavish bedroom suite I could ever hope to see.
Deep lush carpets, crystal chandeliers, marble fireplace surrounded by furs, silk hangings and tapestrie
