Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [24]
“Thank you,” the lass said, mollified. Then she, too, eyed the gown he was holding. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman that tall before.”
The faun was holding the gown so that the hem just brushed the carpet, which meant that his arms were extended straight over his head. From the look of the gown, it had been made for someone fully a foot taller than the lass, and she was tall for a woman herself. Also, whomever the gown had been made for had had an impressive bosom indeed.
“This is not the gown of a woman,” the faun said as he put the gown back.
“Is it another faun’s gown? Are . . . lady . . . fauns very tall?”
“No, it is not the gown of a female of my kind, either,” he said sadly. “Most females were smaller than I, but it has been many years since I have seen one.”
“Are you not permitted to leave the palace?”
“Oh, my, no!” The faun shook his curly head. “I haven’t been outside these walls since I arrived.”
“Are you enchanted, like the bear?”
“That door beside the mirror leads to your washroom, my lady” was all he said. “I’ll leave you now. When you are ready to eat, pull the bellpull beside any of the fireplaces, and I shall bring your meal.” And he trotted away, the sound of his hooves muffled by the thick carpets.
“That was odd,” she remarked after he had left.
Rollo looked over at his mistress. He was standing beside the little table, sniffing its contents with interest. “We’re the guests of a giant isbjørn who lives in a palace made of ice” was his comment.
“I suppose you’re right,” the lass said.
She went through the door beside the mirror to see what a “washroom” was. It was a small room with an ornate washbasin, large bathtub, and chamber pot, all made of greenish ice. The chamber pot was as tall as a chair and half full of water.
Rollo and the lass stared at it for a moment.
“Perhaps it’s not a chamber pot,” the wolf hazarded. “Perhaps it’s water for me to drink.”
“But it looks like one,” the lass argued.
“What does that do?” With his nose, Rollo pointed to the golden knob shaped like a pinecone that sat on the back of the strange contraption.
The lass tried spinning it, but that did nothing. She tried pulling it, but that also did nothing. When she pressed it straight down, however, the water in the pot swirled around and went out the hole in the bottom.
“That’s amazing,” she said. “Look at that! The . . . waste . . . will all go out and away.”
“I still say it’s for me to drink.”
“Well, I need a chamber pot,” the lass said, “so I’m going to try it. Go and lie down by the fire.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t care, just go.” She gave him a gentle boot to the rear, and closed the door of the washroom behind him. When she was done with the odd chamber pot, she discovered that knobs shaped like acorns caused the washbasin to fill with water, and the tub as well. Little crystal jars of soft potions that smelled of flowers had been set on a shelf above the tub, and there was a bar holding soft white towels on the wall beside it.
With a sigh, the lass took off her clothes and slid into a gloriously warm bath. For the first time in her life, she was the first person to use the water. It was so relaxing, she could have fallen asleep. Rollo kept scratching at the door, though, to remind her that he hadn’t eaten all day either, and that the idea of submerging oneself entirely in hot water was unnatural. With another sigh, she got out of the tub after no more than half an hour, dried herself, and put on a long robe of fur-trimmed silk that dragged on the ground behind her and slipped off her shoulders when she moved her arms too much.
As she and Rollo sat down to the supper Erasmus served in her sitting room, she looked around and smiled. “I could get used to living in a palace. Especially since I know that soon my family will have wealth as well.” She spread a snowy napkin across her lap and tore off a hunk of the whitest bread she had ever seen.
Rollo