by an oversized Mage-light in the center of the ceiling that also gave off a warm, golden glow, the chief feature was a huge bathtub carved of honey-colored, translucent stone. To be honest, her bathroom was one of her favorite places in the entire Palace. Whenever she felt overwhelmed and tense, a good long soak always made her feel better, and this above all was the place where the contrast between her old life as a Princess and her life as a Godmother was the greatest. Even as a Princess, hot baths were labor-intensive affairs that involved a great deal of hot water being carried to a hip-bath in pails; the water never stayed hot for long, and a hot soak was a great indulgence. Therein was the great contrast. Perhaps this was equally indulgent, but she sacrificed so much already by living up here, and what was the use of having magic if you couldn't have a steady supply of hot water whenever you wanted it?
It did not take the Brownie very long at all to draw the bath; within moments, Aleksia was able to sink up to her neck in glorious hot water, scented with jasmine and lily. The tub was of a unique design that allowed the bather to recline against a slanted back and put her head back so that her hair fell into a separate, deep basin for it to be washed. Aleksia's hair was not as long as some, only reaching halfway down her back, but this arrangement was as much practical as it was indulgent. Right now, her hair smelled of waterweeds, and the Brownie made disapproving noises over it. As Aleksia let the heat soak into her very bones, and nibbled at the batter-dipped sausages and bits of vegetables that had been brought to her, the Brownie poured more hot water over her long hair, soaped and washed it, then repeated the washing until she was satisfied it was finally clean.
“I cannot imagine what you were doing, Godmother,” the Brownie said in a scolding voice. “Your hair was positively green.” She worked snow-lily scent through it, combed it out and spread it over the back of the tub to dry, fanning it to speed the process. Aleksia closed her eyes with a sigh. She was full, warm and floating in scent, and there was no reason to move. All was well for the moment.
“I was swimming,” Aleksia explained. “It was the only way to leave Tuonela once I was done with my business there.”
“In this weather?” her attendant gasped.
“In Tuonela, it is not Winter.” She cracked open an eye to see the Brownie's baffled expression. “Tuonela is the Sammi Underworld,” she elaborated. “There is a river about it, a ferry takes you over if you are dead — or if the spirit thinks you are — but there is no way back save to swim the river.”
“And a nasty river it must be.” The Brownie sniffed. “You may be sure I am never going there.”
“You are not likely to have to.” Aleksia chuckled, and closed her eyes again. “As I said, there are no Brownies in Tuonela, only the spirits of the Sammi dead.” She could easily have fallen asleep in the tub. She could certainly have stayed there until her fingers and toes were wrinkled and white and her dinner wore off.
But a gentle tugging on her scalp after a time told her that her hair was dry and her attendant was braiding it and pinning it up again, and when the Brownie was done, she stood up with a sigh of regret and accepted the huge, soft towel the little creature offered her. She felt heavy as she stepped out of the tub and out of the support of the water. When she was dry, she put on the white silk underthings and white velvet gown the Brownie presented to her.
But now she felt restored and ready to deal with whatever was about to be tossed in her lap.
Slipping on a pair of white, fur-lined, ankle-length slippers, she made her way to the throne room — and stopped in surprise. Kay was already there, gazing into the depths of her mirror with an expression of naked longing on his face.
Granted, she had “told” it to display Gerda. But he should not have been able to see her. Not unless —
Unless his feelings for her had gone from lovesickness to true love. If that happened to be the case, then Kay would be able to see whatever image of Gerda any magician or soothsayer called up.
He looked up at the sound of her footfall. “I am,” he said, bitterly, “a fool.”
She looked him straight in the eyes. There was something entirely new there. Humility.
Humanity. She controlled her elation. “Yes,” she agreed, “you are.”
He mistook her meaning. “Look at her!” he said, gesturing to the mirror. “Look how good and brave she is! How gentle and kind! Even the wild beasts recognize it! I was blind not to see it, and now — ” He choked and turned away. “Now I have lost her, through my own doing.”
She felt like cheering, but it wouldn't do to let him know that. “You haven't lost her yet, my lad,” she replied briskly. “Though it has certainly taken you long enough to realize what should have truly been precious to you. Not your own self-importance, nor how clever you thought you were, but the affections of those who cared for you, and that you should have cared for in return. We become truly great only when we work for others as well as ourselves. By your own light, you can only illuminate a small part of the world, but when your light is reflected and shared, it is magnified.”
When he looked at her, puzzled, she sighed with impatience. Bah. Another pretty speech wasted on the literal-minded. “Never mind. You will figure it out soon enough. Come.” She gestured imperiously to him. “You have passed your tests, it is time for Gerda to pass hers.” As he stared at her, blank-faced, she repeated her order. “Come.”
He scrambled to her side, and she snapped her fingers to dispel the illusion that the Palace was empty. He gasped to see the Brownies hurrying about their tasks down a hallway, and his cheeks flushed as she permitted him to feel warmth again. To his way of thinking, suddenly the cold and empty Palace had come to life, and it took him completely by surprise. She lifted a finger; a bell sounded, and a Brownie came hurrying up with a pair of white fur cloaks, one for him, and one for her. She turned to the mirror as the Brownie was helping Kay into his, and spoke silently to the Bear. “Leave her, old friend. I am coming with her sweetheart for her final test. But before you go, tell her that the Snow Queen makes a ride each day along where you are, and that her sweetheart might be with me. If she sees him, she is to seize and hold him and not let him go, no matter what she sees or hears, no matter what he tells her. We will see if she has gotten enough of a spine to weather that ordeal.”
The Bear chuckled.
Aleksia dismissed the image in the mirror. Kay made a small sound of protest, but she seized his arm and proceeded at a fast walk — out the door, down the corridor, making a left toward her stables — pulling him with her whether he wished it or not. Her frail appearance was very deceptive; she had no trouble dragging him along.
“Where — are we — ”
“Be quiet, boy,” she replied. “From this moment, you are baggage. The important one is your Gerda now.”
