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“Thistlemarsh itself nourished her during this time, like the hand of her mother reaching out to her through time. The passageways house the stories from Lady Blakeney’s Tales, becoming the glens and snowcapped mountains in Mouse’s imagination. Mr. Hobb, the groundskeeper, indulged her as they attempted to imagine the purpose of the hidden rooms. Mouse was always ready for them to be Faerie spy nooks, where they could catalog the offenses of their human hosts. Though he did not stifle her speculation, Mr. Hobb thought they were only built to keep the servants out of sight of guests.” — Moorea Corrigan
Thistlemarsh itself nourished her during this time, like the hand of her mother reaching out to her through time. The passageways house the stories from Lady Blakeney’s Tales, becoming the glens and snowcapped mountains in Mouse’s imagination.
Mr. Hobb, the groundskeeper, indulged her as they attempted to imagine the purpose of the hidden rooms. Mouse was always ready for them to be Faerie spy nooks, where they could catalog the offenses of their human hosts. Though he did not stifle her speculation, Mr. Hobb thought they were only built to keep the servants out of sight of guests.