It's not often that Gideon is quiet when she has a chance to talk, but all of this borders on overwhelm. She falls silent as she follows Lenore around, doing as she's commanded without a hint of the patter of backchat if only because she doesn't quite know what to say. The bathroom is far larger than her mean stone room back in Drearburh, where there'd been space for a hard slab of a bed and a place to hang her hand-me-down clothes. That Lenore would enter her room as and when she pleases hardly strikes her as unusual; that the vampire would allow her (almost) unrestricted access to her own room is the part that's quietly mind-blowing. She could kill her whilst she sleeps. Set fire to her bed. What's to stop her? It seems like an act of madness, or heart-breaking naivete. Unbidden, it opens up an odd softness inside of her when her eyes slide to her captor.

Keeping windows locked against flying vampires, heated water carried around in pipes, a privy that empties itself somehow, a tub in which - she's guessing - one is supposed to be submerge oneself; well, fuck if this isn't all blowing her mind just a little.

"Yeah. Yeah..." she says as this small tour culminates, and she tries to file all this information away for later use. Just a touch fearful of fucking things up. "It's...very big."

It's a situation which deserves a fucking hell, or a thank you, but she isn't sure how to get the words out.