pulled the blanket from, but I decide not to snoop through those until I’ve checked out the rest of the house.
I find myself in the kitchen next. It’s huge, with tons of counter space and this giant, very old-fashioned looking oven. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to use that thing. A quick glance through the cabinets shows lots of dishes, pots, and pans, but no food. When I look around for a fridge, it dawns on me that I haven’t seen anything electric since I’ve been here. The lights in the living room area are these weird looking lantern things, but there are so many windows letting in light that I hadn’t thought to really inspect them.
Oh, god. Did I end up somewhere that doesn’t have electricity at all? I’m extremely stupid for not having considered it before. But I mean, why else would they have needed to travel by fucking sled if they didn’t have cars or planes or anything?
Feeling completely horrified at my new theory, I wrap the fluffy blanket more securely around myself and shuffle out of the kitchen. I figure Reule keeps his food in a separate pantry or something, but I’ll just have to investigate that later. There’s a long hallway between the kitchen and living area with three doors on each side and one at the end.
The first two doors open up into bedrooms. They’re similar in size and have the same rustic style like the rest of the house I’ve seen. There’s also a little bit more personality in these rooms. There are photos on the walls and clothes scattered across both floors, at least. For the first time, it occurs to me that other people might live here with Reule. The thought makes me feel beyond anxious. Was I supposed to be a gift for someone else, and just got lucky that Reule was the one who happened to be home instead? I force myself not to think about it anymore, otherwise I’ll just end up driving myself crazy.
The next door I open leads to a bathroom, and I almost burst into tears on the spot. They may not have electricity here, but at least there’s actual plumbing. I think I might literally die if I could never take a real shower again. This bathroom is giant too, with a walk-in shower, a huge copper tub, and three sinks with a beautiful mirror hanging above them. I’m super tempted to strip off my disgusting scrap of dress and hop into the shower now. But I want to finish snooping through the house while Reule is still outside, and I’m certain he’ll let me take a shower later if I ask.
I quickly check out the next few rooms. I find two more bedrooms, an office with, like, a million books I’m dying to look at, and a room twice as big as all the others that’s filled with crates and boxes. The boxes are suspiciously similar to the ones that had been loaded onto the sled with me, so I decide to take a closer look.
To my surprise, the first few crates I manage to pry open are filled with bolts of fabric. I really want to look through them more carefully, because the patterns and colors are absolutely gorgeous. But I’m afraid I’m going to get the fabric dirty, so I refrain from touching them as much as possible. Another crate holds nothing but small wooden boxes filled with all sorts of gemstones and different pieces of jewelry.
After I discover another crate filled with shoes, I stand back and survey the room with my eyebrows furrowed. Why would anyone keep all this stuff locked away? It’s a fucking travesty, honestly, because just the few things I’ve found are stunning. Does Reule sell these items somewhere? Do they belong to a woman who lives here, or used to live here?
As weird as it is, I haven’t seen anything that might suggest Reule is a bad person—or anyone else who lives here, for that matter. Granted, there’s still a lot to look through. But I feel okay. I feel as safe and as comfortable as I can, given the situation. I decide to go back to the front room to check if Reule’s still outside. If I don’t see him, or if he looks too busy, I’ll just take a shower while I wait for him to finish with whatever he’s doing.
There’s a large window in the front of the house beside