"Tower?" he asks, and then feels silly about it. He saw towers on his way in. "Should the tower be around here?" He scans the room, looking for doors, there's one on the curved wall but that's probably a closet. "We should probably find the bathroom first, that seems more important." He goes over and opens the closet to see what's inside. 

"Tower it is," says Rosy.

The 'closet' contains: stairs. A spiral stair inside a round, remarkably tower-like enclosure, with window slits in the outer walls.

Well now he feels extra foolish. It was right there all along! "Tower it is," he agrees. He shines his flashlight up and down to see how it works and that everything looks stable (or as much as he can see), then starts traipsing upwards, assuming Rosy will follow close behind. 

She does!

The stairs wind their way up the next two floors; Rosy peeks into the mid-level tower room, which is bare of furniture but has lovely windows, and continues right on up to the top-level tower room, which is also bare of furniture but has even lovelier windows and a tall conical ceiling which must be the internal reflection of the tall conical roof they saw from the front. Crossing the larger cylinder of the main tower to look out the far window reveals a view across the main building's roof and past the fairly modest third floor to where the other, bigger tower sits square and imposing and significantly taller than this one, rising up out of the far end of the third-floor area.

"That must be the stairs," she says, pointing out the cylindrical protrusion running up a rear corner of the square tower. "Looks smaller than the one we just came up; I hope it's not too cramped."

The view is lovely. (Also, seen from above, this place is huge. Gigantic.) 

He looks where Rosy is indicating. That does seem like it'd be cramped. (Maybe it's just distance though? No, she's probably right.) "You'd think the larger tower would have more space for stairs, not less," he says. "Should we head back down?" 

"It might just be the distance. Let's see if we can find the master bathroom, I bet it's a sight to see."

"Let's!" And back down he goes. 

Once he's down and out of the tower and stairs, he looks around. Where exactly would the bathroom be? There's no other doors in here that he can see. Maybe back out in the other room of the 'suite'? "Where should we start looking?" he asks. 

"Well I would've expected a door to the bathroom direct from the bedroom, but clearly that's not happening, unless there's a secret passage, but who would install a secret passage to their bathroom? So let's try the sitting room and see."

The sitting room, it is immediately apparent, does have another exit: a broad open arch leading into a long hall. It's in the same wall as the door in from the central hallway, and there's a big dust-covered something-or-other standing between them, so it wouldn't have been obvious at a glance from that vantage. She ventures down it, paying careful attention to footing and using her flashlight a lot.

First up on the left is a completely open doorway to a very ostentatious-looking bathroom. She ignores it for now and heads deeper. Next is a second completely open doorway to the same ostentatious-looking bathroom, opposite a door which she opens to reveal a massive, completely empty closet. The next door after that is the very end of the hall, which she opens just long enough to confirm that it leads to more hallway-looking stuff and therefore probably out of the suite.

Now she turns around and heads back into the open(???) bathroom. There's a door on the right of the right-hand open doorway, a door on the left of the left-hand open doorway, a needlessly enormous sink on each side, a big empty space in the middle, a frosted glass cubicle in the far corner on the left, a third door in the far corner on the right, but most of all there is A Bathtub, a preposterously large claw-footed ceramic vessel that looks about ready to sail the high seas if only someone would supply it with a mast and figurehead. It sits at the very far end of the room in its own grand alcove, surrounded by windows.

"The, I, what," splutters Rosy, training her flashlight on this nonsense. "Why is there a, Tub Nub. Why is it practically a greenhouse. This is the most exhibitionistic bathroom I've ever seen. Also, where's the toilet???"

John is similarly bewildered by the lack of toilet. Or bathroom doors. "Possibly someone really liked bathing in the sun. And didn't mind people seeing them submerged in suds in water?" He imagines the sun streaming through, illuminating a half-submerged (and fully naked) Rosy, and blushes, covering this by trying the doors. (He had such luck with it last time.) The one nearest the, the entrance is locked (why would it be locked? If it's a closet it should be accessible), and the translucent glass door probably leads to a shower (he shines the light inside anyways to make sure and gets distorted shower reflections back), so he tries the third door in the far corner. "Found it!" he says. 

...

Rosy approaches.

She shines her light into the toilet closet.

There's the toilet, all right, and a lovely bidet.

"No," she says. "Absolutely not. Under no circumstances. John, there's no sink in there. I will NOT touch a doorknob with poo hands." She holsters her flashlight and rummages in her backpack for her notebook, then stands in the somewhat sunlit Tub Nub to scribble down a firm note: ABSOLUTELY NO POO HANDS SHAME CLOSET.

John does not feel nearly as strongly as Rosy about this (okay, he doesn't really see the point, the hands are going to be washed anyways, right? This isn't really any different from the bathroom stalls at school, right?) but he supposes he can see where she's coming from. (He's not going to ask about the bathroom stall thing. Girls have the same stalls as boys do right? He's seen it in movies and things.) 

"Possibly we could, hmmm, leave the door open and..." He stares off at the entrances (plural!) "and block off the doorways somehow? Or get the house to do it? How much remodeling can the house spirit do?"

"Plenty. We'll have to order in materials for anything really extensive, but we almost certainly won't have to hire actual people to remodel anything unless we get really ambitious, and if we do, Mom knows who to talk to about getting people on our side of the Veil. Anyway, let's check out the closets."

She heads for the one remaining door, the one that's on the left as you come in. It does indeed lead to a walk-in closet, twice as big as the already enormous one in the hall, and there's no mattress in there but there's a big stack of antique luggage at the far end.

This is, easily, the largest closet John has ever seen. "This is a closet??" he asks, incredulous. "This is a bedroom. A dark and windowless bedroom." No, wait, there's a window at the far side, behind some of the luggage. "Neatly windowless," he corrects. "Maybe it's a cell. Like, for prisoners? A very spacious cell." (He's being humorous, it's clearly not a cell.)

"I diagnose this bathroom with a severe closet imbalance. What was in the other one, anyway? I was too busy marveling at the tub nub to see."

"I couldn't get in," he tells her. "It was locked."

"...weird." She starts looking through her keyring, label by label.

"...Remember how I said nobody's going to put a secret passage in their bathroom?"

Not entirely. She might have mentioned that? He doesn't remember exactly. "I think so..." he says, trailing off. And then the implications of what she said hit him. "Wait, really?" He peers at the label on the key she's holding. 

It says Master Bathroom Secret Passage.

She tries it.

The closet contains stairs.

"Boy that's narrow," she says, getting out her flashlight again to peer at the winding spiral. "Well? Shall we?" And, leaning in a little, "Up or down?"

That sure does appear to be a Master Bathroom Secret Passage. What the heck? "What's likely to be up or down?" he asks. "I guess up? Or down? Which is more likely to be interesting? Maybe down? Down seems more likely to be a secret room or something."

"Sure, let's try down."

She picks her way gingerly down the steep, cramped spiral, and opens the door at the bottom to reveal... an even bigger closet, half full of old boxes.

"This is too much closet," she says, squinting. "I think it's as big as the entire bathroom. I could have a dozen variants on every sexy outfit and not even begin to be taking up space. Even if I didn't clear out the old junk first. Who knows, maybe the old junk is my ancestors' sexy outfit collections."

"We could look?" he suggests. He's amused by the concept but there's almost no way it's sexy outfits. It's strange enough that he's found someone else in the real world that's into that sort of thing the way he is. But they can always check. Might be interesting! "Or we could go see where it goes upstairs." 

(That said he is very interested in the idea of Rosy storing dozens of sexy outfits in here, just for him. He likes that idea a lot.) 

"Hmm... they look pretty dusty. Let's save it for after the house cleans itself up, and check upstairs for now."

Back up the secret passage she goes! (Conscientiously locking doors behind her.)

The stairs are very narrow, and dark, (and slightly scary, he doesn't want to hurt himself,) but he makes it all the way up to the second floor (where the stairs terminate) and opens the door there to find... a bedroom, of all things. He steps aside so Rosy can enter too.