double suite

She trusted few — but adored them completely. 

This room was meant for her dames de compagnie — the women who knew when to talk, when to vanish, and when to pour another glass of wine without being asked. They weren’t sisters by blood, but by secrets, mischief, and a shared understanding that glamour was not to be rationed.

Two beds sit beneath a single chandelier, a symbol of intimacy split in two. It was here that they unpacked furs and confessions, wrote postcards they never sent, and practiced vanishing with grace.

A room for chosen sisters.

For confidantes.

For those whose loyalty was whispered, not declared.