Anna licked her lips as the heavy silence stretched on and her resolve wavered by each moment.
The iron stove was standing firm in front of them. It had a large iron slab on the top, marked with round circles for a reason Anna can only imagine.
Its body was as weird as the top; there were some small compartments with doors and a meter, probably for adjusting and showing the temperature, was engraved in the center.
Anna furrowed her brows wondering how bizarre the richer households were. Why didn't they just use a hearth? It could be used to cook, to keep the place warm, and was so simple to use.
Azrael broke the silence, "It should be lit."
"Oh, marvelous idea!" Anna rolled her eyes, "I couldn't have imagined."
"How long until I taste your unforgettable tea?"
She closed her eyes to suppress the heat of embarrassment that threatened to crawl over her skin.
Forget the tea when she couldn't not even figure out how the stove could possibly work.
