Page 89 of Tasty Cherry

“It’s locked down pretty tightly nowadays. Most of maintenance can get in, usually once you’ve worked here about six months. But only two members of housekeeping have access. And any room service is handled by the manager on shift. All front desk calls are routed to the manager. We deliver towels or food or anything they need in person.”

“Wow.”

“It’s an important secret. Part of the castle’s mystique.”

We step out of the stairwell, and everything is sky. The white carpeting is lush and thick. The walls are perfectly blue, brighter on top than at the bottom.

Clouds are suspended from the ceiling by invisible wire, some high, some low. It feels like you’re walking among them. I reach out to touch one. It’s softer than cotton but just as fluffy and white.

“This is incredible,” I say.

There’s a door ahead. It’s marked “Secret Suite.” Below it is a plaque that reads, “All who enter here agree to keep the secret.”

He turns to me. “Do you?”

“Of course. So no one is staying here?”

“They checked out last night. The next person arrives tomorrow. It’s a rare empty day.”

The first room is an extension of the clouds in the foyer, but colored like a sunset in pale pink and orange. It’s filled with pastel furniture, and soft white curtains frame grand windows that look out on the mountains.

“This is magical,” I say.

“It’s only the beginning,” Sebastian says. He turns a dial by the door.

The sunset fades into night, and I realize the walls are actually screens. Soon, the room is filled with the chirping of insects.

He moves it again, and dawn shifts the colors from black to dark blue to the pale rising of the sun.

“That’s amazing.”

“And that is only the setting for time of day. There are themes.”

I spot something shifting in another room. “Does it affect the entire suite?”

“Yes, you can sync every room, or do them independently. The bathroom isn’t automatically included so that no one is surprised in the shower if someone moves to the pirate ship.”

“Pirate ship?”

“It’s a cool one, but I think that one is best in the bedroom.”

The bedroom.

My body tingles, forgetting that it was sore a few hours ago. Funny how that works.

Every day is a revelation.

I follow Sebastian through an archway into the next room. A huge round bed matches the circularity of the room itself. Everything inside mirrors this shape — the cushioned chairs, all the tables, a desk with a round mirror.

He turns a knob by the door and this room cycles through the day, breaking its connection with the living room. Then the room darkens into night, and a constellation of stars appears overhead. The walls become the hull of a ship and a lone lantern sways on its post.

Waves crash all around us, and I startle.

Then come the rush of smells. Seawater. Wet wood. Salty air.

“This is amazing,” I tell him.

“Come over here.” He takes my hand and draws me to the bed.

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