They hadn’t specified their room in writing, but they’d left a flower emoji at the end of the message. That didn’t help me out much. Several of the third-floor rooms had floral emblems on them. So far I’d seen a tulip, an orchid, a carnation, and a poppy, all beautifully carved out of gold.
I shot back a quick text.Hi, sorry, which room is this? There are a few flower-themed ones so I’m not sure.
I waited thirty seconds, but no response came through. With a sigh, I got up and headed downstairs to get the martinis anyway. By the time they were finished, the person might’ve responded.
Five minutes later, there was still no reply to my message. I took the drinks tray up to the third floor and slowly trudged down the dim hall, frowning as I tried to use the process of elimination to figure out which room the martinis were wanted in. It couldn’t be the Tulip room, because they’d just ordered a whole bottle of wine only ten minutes ago, so I doubted they wanted any more drinks. That still left quite a lot of options, though.
I groaned as I realized I would have to knock on each door and possibly disturb and annoy the guests inside until I got the right room. Before I could start, however, I spotted two men standing near an accent table, heads close together like they were deep in conversation. I hurried toward them, hoping they were the ones who wanted the drinks.
As I drew closer, I realized they were arguing in hushed tones.
“You have no idea if that’s true or not. She could easily open her mouth,” the one on the left said.
“But you have no idea if she will, do you?” the other retorted. “You saw her earlier. She loves it. She won’t say anything.”
I cleared my throat to announce my presence, and the men whirled around. “What do you want?” the first one asked. “Can’t you see we’re trying to have a private discussion?”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, my voice coming out in a nervous squeak. “I was just wondering… did you order these French martinis?”
“No.”
The man who’d spoken turned his gaze away. Before I lost the other man’s attention as well, I dared to speak up again. “I’m sorry. I’m just confused about who ordered these drinks. They left a flower emoji in the message, but it’s very generic-looking, so I’m not sure…”
I trailed off as the second man snatched the phone from me and glanced at the most recent message. “Looks like a rose to me,” he said.
He showed the phone to his friend, who barely glanced at it before shrugging and muttering, “Give her the fucking key, then. They obviously want more stuff in the Rose Room.”
The other man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. It was a long, old-fashioned type with an elaborately-patterned gold ornament at the end. “Just put it back on this table after you’re done,” he said. “I’ll get it later.”
“Thank you, sir,” I murmured.
The men returned to their hushed argument as I stepped away, wondering what the hell was going on. None of the other rooms required me to have a key, but apparently this Rose Room was different. I had no idea why. At least I knew where I was supposed to go now, though.
I trudged down the hall and located a central room with a beautiful golden rosette on the door. I tentatively knocked, just in case, and when there was no answer, I slid the key into the lock and turned it sideways. It unlocked with a soft click.
I pushed the door open with one hand while balancing the drinks tray in the other.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered to myself as I took in my new surroundings. I was in some sort of library, if you could even call it that—it was narrow, musty-smelling and dim with dust collected everywhere. Spiderwebs were woven around shelves and the books sitting on them, and a tiny table and singular chair was crammed into a corner, just as old and dirty as the rest.
I was about to leave, figuring I had the wrong room after all, when I noticed a lot of footprints in the dust, all heading toward the tall bookshelf at the back of the space. They looked fresh.
Frowning, I set the drinks down on the little table and stepped over to the shelf. I scratched at my cheek and tilted my head to one side as I stared up at it. One of the books was sticking out from the rest. It was the only one that wasn’t covered in dust, too. Leather-bound with gold lettering on the side.
I gingerly reached up to pull it all the way out, and then I jumped back with wide eyes as the shelf slowly began to swing around.
“Awesome,” I whispered. As a child, I’d dreamed of living in a mansion with secret rooms and passageways hidden behind walls and shelves. The Connery family actually got to live out that fantasy every single day.
On the other side of the shelf lay an even smaller room. There was nothing in here but a set of wooden spiral stairs, coiling upward at a scarily-steep angle. Each step had a rosette engraved on its side, just like the door that led into this place.
By now, I had a distinct feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be in here, manifesting in tingles and goosebumps all over my arms and chest. The men who directed me here were probably just distracted with their heated conversation and didn’t realize that I didn’t belong in this place, and that was why they gave me the key.
I decided to explore anyway. There was just no way I could walk out of here right now. My curiosity about those spiral stairs would probably haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn’t venture up them and check it all out.
Slowly and carefully, I padded up the spiral staircase. It was sturdier than it looked, and it terminated in another small room, lit with white candles. A door stood at the end. Faint music and laughter floated out from beyond.
I stepped forward, every inch of me tingling and pulsing with anticipation. The door was made from oak which looked much older than the walls surrounding it. It had a knob of black metal that looked ancient, and several inches above that was an embossed golden rose with a snake coiled around it.
I was struck again by the sense that whatever lay behind this door was forbidden to me; a cold, shuddery feeling like the floor had just fallen out of my stomach. But that didn’t stop my hand from reaching for the knob. I turned it carefully and peeked behind the door.
At the sight before my eyes, I let out a small, strangled gasp.
“Holy shit.”