He pulled out the plug, revealing a hole. No answers there. Set into the wall above the basin were two small wheels. Curious, Kellen turned one.
Water began to spill into the basin through holes in the rim. Kellen yelped and jumped back, startled, then dipped his fingers in the riling water. Fresh enough to drink… and the other wheel produced water as hot as if it had just come from a kettle.
Kellen turned them both off, and regarded the washing bowl in awe. Not even Armethalieh's magic could provide a washbowl that rilled with hot or cold water on command and emptied itself besides—and the best thing was, he suspected it was all done without an ounce of magic!
Upon inspection, the small hip-bath proved to fill and empty the same way. He could take a bath—a hot bath—anytime he wanted to, without having to haul water or trouble any servants.
Or use magic to heat the water.
And best of all, the necessary also sluiced itself clean with water after each use. No more midnight treks to the outhouse. No more close-stools or thundermugs, a feature of even the most exalted houses in Armethalieh. Everything here was clean and civilized.
Kellen frowned, trying to figure out what the fundamental difference was. In Armethalieh, it was easy to be comfortable if you had magic and wealth, but your comfort was purchased at the cost of others' discomfort. But in Sentarshadeen, from what he'd seen so far, everyone could live like the High Mages, and nobody had to suffer for it.
He hoped it was true.
He went back into the main room. He didn't know how long he'd spent in the water closet, but Idalia was gazing at him with an amused expression on her face. Kellen blushed. Of course, this was all familiar to her from her previous time among the Elves, but it was still all new to him.
'I'll take that one,' Kellen said hastily, pointing at a door at random. He gathered up as much of his gear as he could manage and shuffled awkwardly toward it, just managing to get the tips of his fingers onto the door latch and toe the door open.
The ceiling here was lower, the room done in shades of browns and greens. There was a large window on one wall, with a deep window seat before it. Facing it, built into the wall, its contours designed to harmonize with the shape of the window, was a tall clothes-chest. Between the chest and the window was a bed, with another bench for sitting at its foot. Tucked beside the door was a small desk and stool. There were lanterns in niches around the walls. If he had studied the ways to design a room for years, he could never have come up with an arrangement so harmonious, and so—ah, that word again!—perfectly suited to inducing relaxation.
Kellen dropped his burden on the bed. He'd meant to go right back out for another load, but the view outside his window drew him toward it. He walked over and opened the glass-paned shutters. From here he could see out into the canyon, almost as if he were hanging in space. Though the opposite wall of the canyon must be as filled with dwelling-places as this one was, somehow they did not draw the eye; his mind insisted that he was looking out on unspoiled paradise.
This must be how the Wildwood looked to Idalia, Kellen thought with a flash of insight. No wonder she'd been happy there, Kellen realized. It was her place.
He didn't think Sentarshadeen was where he belonged—it was too soon to tell, anyway—but it was so beautiful it could make you think you belonged here, no matter where your true place was. And maybe it could help you understand other people better. Because I suppose Armethalieh looks this way to some people, too, Kellen admitted grudgingly, if only to himself.
His reverie was interrupted by the sound of voices—two voices—from the room outside.
'I see you, Idalia,' a man's voice said.
'I see you, Jermayan,' Idalia answered.
Kellen went to the door of the bedroom and looked out. There was an Elf standing in the doorway of the house.
Like the woods-guards, Jermayan was dressed in earth tones, but it was clear that his garments were not meant to blend in to an autumn forest. He wore low boots of russet velvet over snug moss-green leggings embroidered with twining vines in russet and gold. His long hair was held back by a tubular weave of dull gold silk ribbons, and he wore a sheer tunic in palest russet oversewn with bands of velvet of a green so dark it was nearly black.
There was a long pause.
'Will you deny me the comfort of your hearth, Idalia?' Jermayan said at last.
Kellen saw Idalia bite back a sharp retort. 'If you think you will find comfort in entering this house, Jermayan,
