[There's a teenager wandering around in the lower levels, unrestrained awe on his face as he inspects the structure of the stairs, the snowflake chandeliers, and the magnificently sparkling fountain.
He vaguely recalls wishing for a glass castle when he was a child, something where he and his father could shine coloured lights through to make shapes and patterns, entertainment for mother, especially since he was too sick to leave the house.
This isn't a glass castle, but it is certainly close enough. Maybe he can claim this place as a tertiary home?]
Will it actually hold my weight? [mumble, mumble, stomps on the first step with one foot to see whether it'll break.]