"They wouldn't, like, break, or anything? They're not fragile?" 

"I mean, I'd have to be designing this chandelier from scratch anyway, because normally they don't make chandeliers with tails that go down three stories, so I might as well design it to be a little resilient, right?"

Fair! "Right, sure, that makes sense." He looks up and down again. "I have no idea what it would look like, or how you'd do it. Just long strings of crystals from ceiling to floor? Where the floor is three stories down or however many this is." He looks up and down once more. "Or something more elaborate?" Knowing Rosy, probably something more elaborate. "Where do the lights go, inside?" Why is he asking questions about this when the bedroom is nearby?! They could go there! 

"I'm imagining like, a pretty normal-looking chandelier hanging from the second-floor ceiling," she points up at it, "above the circle of the stairs. And then dangling from the bottom of that, long strings of sparkly crystals, maybe with more rings of lights, like you just took the bottom of the normal chandelier and stretched it way way out. And then it peters out just above the floor in the basement."

John tilts his head and squints, confused. "Rings of lights..." he trails off. "On the inside?" That's not how he's used to chandeliers working. "Normally chandeliers have those fake candle things, right?" (Why is he still questioning when a) he shouldn't be and b) he could be heading to the bedroom?!?) (Because she's really cute when she has ideas. And talks about things. And explains things. It still feels bad to question her, though.) 

"—right, yes, there's different kinds, but have you ever seen the kind that looks kind of like an upside-down layer cake?" She sketches a shape in the air with her hands. "I think that one suits this application better than the older model that's more made of arms. Though you could also do interesting things with the one made of arms..."

"Oh, like what?" John says before he can stop himself. (Has he seen the kind that looks like a layer cake before? He's not sure that he has. Layer cake like... wedding cake, from the way she's moving her hands? And then strings coming down off of all those differently-sized layers? With extra lights to make them glitter because you'd need that? He can kinda see how that would work. Neat!) 

"Like imagine looping strings of sparkle hanging off the arms, that happens, right, but like make it almost a layer cake of arms, different tiers, I think that happens sometimes too, and then hang the loops of sparkle lower and lower from the lower and lower tiers, to get the same effect as the layer cake one where it's almost normal up top and then extends downward into the cylinder, and from the middle of the very bottom arms you put down a straight rope with no loops at all, and little fairylights in it." She gestures enthusiastically while she speaks.

(She's really cute when she does that! Really really cute. He might a little bit want to kiss her, for some reason.) "I think I see what you mean," he says. (The gestures really help.) "Fairy lights are like Christmas lights, right? Can the house do those without electricity?" (And then immediately regrets asking) "I guess it can probably do a lot of things. The current lights aren't really powered by gas either, for that matter." 

"Exactly! Yes, I would have to do some coaxing about the fairy lights, but I bet I could make it work. Or the house could do them magically in which case there's all kinds of interesting design possibilities available..."

Oh there are, aren't there. Gosh. "You could have just floating balls of light," he says, a little caught up in it. "Or if you really wanted, lights that bob up and down slowly so everything is super glittery all the time. And you could do different colors on holidays and things, like red and green for Christmas if you wanted." He's not saying too much, is he? No, she's grinning and thinking about it and happy, everything is fine. 

"Ooh, I like colours. I think if I went that route I'd leave deciding on colours up to the house, though, which means if it does holiday colours they'll run the fae calendar like the Blakes do."

Leave it up to the house... "How does the house know which holidays it is?" he asks. "Or what the colors for them are? How would it be choosing them otherwise?" He pauses for a moment. "Wait, how smart is it exactly and um, is it listening to everything we're saying?" Wait, does he need to be embarrassed for the house overhearing him question its intelligence? Has he been insulting the house? Oh no, wait, fuck. How smart is it? Shit. "Sorry, didn't mean anything, this is all new to me!" he calls out, if the house is listening. And then immediately feels extra embarrassed. 

Rosy pats him on the arm. "It's okay! It's okay. You don't need to—it's okay. Yes, the house can hear us, but it mostly doesn't respond except to requests and orders. It is really difficult to insult and you probably can't because you're not a Blake so it doesn't - have the sort of relationship with you where it would make sense to be insulted by you? I'm sorry, I understand things like the house and the woods because I grew up with them, I recognize that this is just not a way of being that you have any experience with and it's weird and new and confusing and you don't know how to interact with it."

Phew. Okay, good? He still feels weird about it, though. (Even if it can't be insulted he still shouldn't be treating it like that? And also it feels bad that he can't have a relationship with it. Though...) "Wait, if I" wait should he have said 'when' if the house is supposed to think of him as betrothed well it's too late now hopefully he hasn't broken anything "marry you and become a Blake, will that change? Or is it just... only your family members? Like, only if you were born one?" 

"Being born a Blake makes me—someone whose opinions the house has to care about, someone it needs to argue with if I disagree with it. Someone it has to listen to. 'Listen to' doesn't necessarily mean 'obey', it won the argument about electric lighting, but there's... something there that's not there with people who just marry into the family, even though it also cares about people who marry into the family."

"Oh. Okay." Why does it feel weird that the house is not ever going to like, argue with him? That doesn't make sense for something he wants. But he feels oddly sad about it for some reason. (Why is he dwelling on this it's not important...) "That makes sense I guess. So... onwards to the Master bedroom?" He's still a little sad for some reason but he's still very excited about the Master bedroom. And everything they're going to get up to in there tonight. (And possibly now? Now might also be fun.) 

"Onwards!"

She kisses him on the cheek and proceeds past the stairs and left along the corridor toward the master suite.

He grins back at her (she's cute) and follows along, looking at the decor, and doing his best to get thoughts about the fact that the house isn't going to properly pay attention to him or something (what is he even worried about here? Why is he still thinking about this?) our of his head. Thankfully, he has other things to think about. (Like how pretty the house is, and how cute Rosy is, and the things they're going to get up to...) Okay, not too hard to get it out of his head, thankfully. (He's very excited again. And slightly turned on. Possibly more than slightly.) 

The master suite's sitting room, with its lights on and its furniture unveiled, is simultaneously grand and cozy. The lighting is warm and gentle but still bright enough to illuminate all the pretty details of the antique furniture, the stonework around the fireplace, the newly cleaned and vibrant rugs on the hardwood floor... there's just a lot to take in. Rosy steps inside and spins herself around, the better to beam at it all.

It looks really cozy, much nicer than before (though some of that is the lighting, flashlights didn't help), though watching Rosy be delighted and spinning in the middle of the room is the nicest part of all. He watches her with a huge grin on his face, delighting at her joy. (She's so cute! And pretty! And going to be his! He can feel how happy she's being, and he loves every second of it.) 

"Look at our pretty pretty house!!" she exclaims, rushing over to hug him. (The lights go briefly warmer, almost like they're blushing.)

He catches the house's reaction, and for a moment feels bad that he can't properly give the house a compliment (which it deserves!) the way Rosy can, but then he's caught up in her hug and her delight, and hugs back, still grinning. "It's great!" he says. "I can't believe it did all this so fast, and it looks so nice!" (And also it's making Rosy happy, which is the most important thing. He really likes it when Rosy is so happy.) 

"C'mon, let's see the bedroom!"

The bedroom, it turns out, is both grander and cozier. That enormous bed, curtained and canopied, mattressed and dressed, makes a stunning centerpiece around which all the other decor organizes itself. The wood-paneled walls have subtler, shallower echoes of the elaborate carvings that decorate the bedframe. The curtains on the windows match the ones around the bed - double-layered, with fine white lace over a heavier cream-coloured curtain that does more to block light.

Rosy climbs into the bed and flops there. A tiny white feather swirls up from the point of impact and then drifts down to settle next to her on the satiny cream-coloured duvet.

"It's so comfy..." she says dreamily. "I'm taking up the Sleeping Beauty lifestyle. Never again shall I stir from its cozy embrace."

John is not really used to living in places where rooms have this much coordination. First Rosy's room, and now here. Is this what it's like to be rich? Or just... what it's like to be a Blake, even?

She looks so cozy lying there.

John knows she's not being serious, from context and from tone of voice, and yet what comes out of his mouth is "I, um, don't we have other um, plans today?" (Fuck!)