‘The Rose Room’, the Rose key, all for free, all at wish, what more could this doe dream of. She who had endured pain half of her life, who had escaped, who had found and made her little Eden. She who lives from and with the forest, she was born there. She, that little doe that fought her way to where she’s now, is in a fabulous hotel, a castle, ultimate spoiling luxury. Does she deserve it?
Anyway, that doe walks in her most simple linen outfit through corridors of a luxurious hotel, a key for a chambre in her hand, The Rose Room.
The room has to be found, but then she sees it, a wooden door, beautifully decorated with floral carvings, in the middle a stunning real wooden rose, it must be here.
The key fits, Lizbeth must always carry this key with her, always, nobody will ever lock her up again.
Lizbeth’s heart races as she about to open the door, already the scent of diverse flowers welcome her, she smiles.
Goes open that wooden door, revealing Lizbeth’s room. Not the grandiose chambre, not the absolute master suite, no a space, light flooded, simple room, a grand opening, a magnificent bow window gives full view of that mentioned garden and the forest not far, her beloved forest, the place of her origins.
But it’s not just a simple room, what makes the room outermost beautiful I are the numerous flowers, bouquets of roses in all color, a magnificent silver shimmering white rose neatly posed on her bed, of course king size bed.
“My Angel is with me!”
The bed is turned towards the window, so when she’ll wake up, she’ll see the forest. On the left a magnificent Hortensia flowering man high, on the right an unforgettable scent is spread from a climbing Yasmin, little white flowers like pearling in grapes above the bed. Lizbeth has tears in her eyes, overwhelmed by the beauty.
But it’s not all, room next door, the summum of bathroom, as big as her bedroom, in the middle a free standing bathtub turned towards a same bow window, with same view over garden and forest.
It is to mention that both windows have a door giving to the garden, nobody is locked up at this castle.
Yet there is a second door in the bedroom, what would that be? Lizbeth is curious and peeks behind. Her jaw almost drops to the floor, a dressing filled with clothes, from the most simple linen dress, to elaborated silken dresses like coming straight out of a princess’ wardrobe. Is Lizbeth a princess here?
She can’t believe.
Anyway, that doe walks in her most simple linen outfit through corridors of a luxurious hotel, a key for a chambre in her hand, The Rose Room.
The room has to be found, but then she sees it, a wooden door, beautifully decorated with floral carvings, in the middle a stunning real wooden rose, it must be here.
The key fits, Lizbeth must always carry this key with her, always, nobody will ever lock her up again.
Lizbeth’s heart races as she about to open the door, already the scent of diverse flowers welcome her, she smiles.
Goes open that wooden door, revealing Lizbeth’s room. Not the grandiose chambre, not the absolute master suite, no a space, light flooded, simple room, a grand opening, a magnificent bow window gives full view of that mentioned garden and the forest not far, her beloved forest, the place of her origins.
But it’s not just a simple room, what makes the room outermost beautiful I are the numerous flowers, bouquets of roses in all color, a magnificent silver shimmering white rose neatly posed on her bed, of course king size bed.
“My Angel is with me!”
The bed is turned towards the window, so when she’ll wake up, she’ll see the forest. On the left a magnificent Hortensia flowering man high, on the right an unforgettable scent is spread from a climbing Yasmin, little white flowers like pearling in grapes above the bed. Lizbeth has tears in her eyes, overwhelmed by the beauty.
But it’s not all, room next door, the summum of bathroom, as big as her bedroom, in the middle a free standing bathtub turned towards a same bow window, with same view over garden and forest.
It is to mention that both windows have a door giving to the garden, nobody is locked up at this castle.
Yet there is a second door in the bedroom, what would that be? Lizbeth is curious and peeks behind. Her jaw almost drops to the floor, a dressing filled with clothes, from the most simple linen dress, to elaborated silken dresses like coming straight out of a princess’ wardrobe. Is Lizbeth a princess here?
She can’t believe.
Like all guests, Lizbeth will find that the hotel seems to have anticipated her needs and provided. There are clothes in the wardrobe, toiletries in the bathroom, all that she could need to make her stay at the Farhaven as pleasant and comfortable as possible. Most especially, nestled upon the pillows on her bed she will find a panflet with a wealth of information about the Hotel and its offered amenities (included little illustrations tot help with understanding). No doubt she will find some way to amuse herself during her time in the castle. And will take care should she chose to venture out side of it.
Lizbeth is marveled, she almost feels like a princess, not spoiled, no, taken care of. For once in her life someone else cares about her, about her well being.
Lizbeth thinks about her Max, her lighthouse were she a boat in the storm, that horse saved her and cares about her so much, he’s the only one who ever did that, save her. And now this castle, this superb castle with that small lovely doe inside, a castle that cares about her as much as Max does.
Lizbeth picks up that rose of pure white, instantly Angel her Mom comes into her mind, “Angel….” a tear runs down the doe’s face.
The panflet, inviting peace of paper, Lizbeth unfolds it, a multitude of little pictures describe the hotel, the comfort, the different places, the staff. A finger points on the only one she knows, “Bartholomew, the lovely receptionist, what a nice man, a bit too nice” she grins having detected that ‘cocky’ side of him. Other staff members are shown, she will come to know them in time. A plan shows the different places to visit, as well as the ‘bar’ a place to go to have a nice mug of tea. Lizbeth wonders if they have more herbs than herself.
Lizbeth decides to go there first, but wearing something more accurate to find in such place. Quickly a nice long robe of delicate white linen is to be found, little frills finish the seams and even the extra hole for that deer’s tail is present, perfect.
The door closes of the rose room, Lizbeth is on her way to have a nice mug of tea, but not without caressing gently that so nicely carved rose on said door. The doe smiles.
Lizbeth thinks about her Max, her lighthouse were she a boat in the storm, that horse saved her and cares about her so much, he’s the only one who ever did that, save her. And now this castle, this superb castle with that small lovely doe inside, a castle that cares about her as much as Max does.
Lizbeth picks up that rose of pure white, instantly Angel her Mom comes into her mind, “Angel….” a tear runs down the doe’s face.
The panflet, inviting peace of paper, Lizbeth unfolds it, a multitude of little pictures describe the hotel, the comfort, the different places, the staff. A finger points on the only one she knows, “Bartholomew, the lovely receptionist, what a nice man, a bit too nice” she grins having detected that ‘cocky’ side of him. Other staff members are shown, she will come to know them in time. A plan shows the different places to visit, as well as the ‘bar’ a place to go to have a nice mug of tea. Lizbeth wonders if they have more herbs than herself.
Lizbeth decides to go there first, but wearing something more accurate to find in such place. Quickly a nice long robe of delicate white linen is to be found, little frills finish the seams and even the extra hole for that deer’s tail is present, perfect.
The door closes of the rose room, Lizbeth is on her way to have a nice mug of tea, but not without caressing gently that so nicely carved rose on said door. The doe smiles.