sudden the Bear emerged from the canopy and into the open beyond, and Camille’s heart leapt upward again, for straight ahead across a broad mead stood the great chateau.
“Oh, Bear, I am wholly apprehensive,” quavered Camille, burying her hands into fur and gripping tightly. “Remain my protector, please.”
“ Whuff, ” replied the Bear quietly, and pressed on ahead.
As they went on toward the manor, Camille now saw just how vast a place it truly was. Left and right the building stretched away, and loomed upward as well. Pale grey it was, and made of granite, with a huge, deep portico upheld by fluted columns, the pillars granite, too. Here and there along the front, from second-storey rooms and above, leaded-glass doorways opened onto white-marble balconies, while all across and abounding, leaded- glass windows in white wooden sashes stood in white wooden frames.
Great Mithras, there must be two hundred rooms or more. Much to dust and sweep and clean, endless windows to wash, chambers to air, linens to-Oh, my, but I do hope that I don’t have to Just then Camille heaved a quiet sigh of relief, for she could see that within the great portico the doors to the house stood wide, and flanking and extending outward from the portal stood servants arrayed in two long rows. Steadily trod the Bear, to come up the two steps and onto the wide porch. And servants silently bowed or curtseyed deeply as the Bear trod between, yet Camille knew not how to respond, and so she rode into the manse on the back of the Bear without saying a word.
Past the open, brass-studded, thick doors of oak and down a short corridor she rode, to pass beyond another set of open doors and across a broad landing, then down two steps into a vast front hall: its floor was of white marble, with an inlaid depiction of a great oak centered therein-the leaves of malachite, the bole and limbs a subtle mix of grey and red granite. A full four storeys above, the white plaster ceiling held a leaded-glass skylight depicting the same oak-a reflection of the one below. Two massive staircases-one left, one right-swept from a common landing outward and up, curving to a high balcony all ’round, and higher up still were individual balconies jutting out of the three facing walls, with recessed doors leading into chambers beyond. There were doors and archways ranged to left, right, and fore, both at the great hall floor level and the balcony level above; through the archways, Camille could see corridors leading away. Sconces for candles and lanterns were arrayed along on the walls around, but sunlight pouring in through high, front windows and the leaded-glass skylight above lighted the chamber brightly.
The Bear padded to the center of the great hall and stopped on the inlaid stone-oak; then, led by a tall, slender, grey-haired man dressed all in black, a flurry of servants-footmen and butlers-surrounded both Bear and girl. At a signal from the man in black, a footman stepped forward and placed a small stool on the floor, while another held out his hand and murmured, “My lady.”
Camille swung her leg over and took his hand and stepped to the stool and then to the floor. At another signal, the footman whisked the stool away, while others un-clipped the harness from the Bear.
The grey-haired man, who seemed to be in charge of all, said, “Mademoiselle, my prince names me Lanval, and I will show you to your chambers.”
Camille’s heart lurched. “But my Bear: will he not accompany me?”
“No, my lady. There are other things my prince-”
The Bear growled low, and Lanval said no more.
Camille turned to the Bear and flung her arms about his neck and whispered, “Oh, my protector, will you come if I call?”
A soft whuff was his answer.
“My things,” said Camille, releasing the Bear and turning to Lanval and gesturing at the harness and bundles.
“They will be delivered to your chambers,” replied the man, “though I believe that you will find it quite well- appointed to serve the needs of a lady.”
Up one of the long sweeping staircases Lanval led her, to the balcony above and thence through an archway into a corridor wainscoted in cherry wood with red-velvet walls above. Cherry-panelled doorways stood left and right, some open, others closed. Up a short flight of steps he led her, and turned right and right again, passing through richly carpeted and panelled hallways, all hued in a pale green, to come to a massive oak door, which, unlike the others, had the Summerwood crest thereon. Camille’s heart beat a bit faster upon seeing the symbol, yet she breathed deeply and braced herself for whatever was to come.
“One moment, my lady,” said Lanval, and he opened the door to a dimly lit room and stepped inside. Within instants, light flooded the chamber, and Lanval reappeared. “Your quarters, my lady,” he said, standing aside and bowing.
Hesitantly, she entered, Lanval following after. Into a radiant sitting room they came, and though lamps and candles sat upon tables and stood ensconced along the walls for nighttime needs, all was illuminated by daylight streaming inward through a skylight above, its pull-cord shade now open. But it was the chamber itself that caused Camille to take in a deep breath, for it was luxurious: satins and silks of pale yellow and old gold and rich creams seemed everywhere, on lounges and chairs and love seats and the pillows thereon, though several of those were bright white instead. Filling the air with their subtle fragrance, yellow roses in yellow vases sat upon the oak-wood tables standing against cream-colored walls embellished with a gilded tracery. All was arranged for quiet conversation of pairs and trios and more. Camille saw to the left stood an archway and straight ahead an open door, and they led to rooms beyond.
Discreetly, Lanval showed her about the suite: he escorted Camille through the archway and into a small library with tall, book-laden shelves standing against one wall with a rolling track-ladder for reaching the top. Therein as well sat plush leather chairs and lanterns and candles for nighttime reading-though in this chamber, too, Lanval tugged the pull cord to remove the shade from the skylight high above to let in the light of day. Along another wall sat an escritoire and chair, with trimmed goose quills and an inkwell and blotters and talc and a trimming blade, as well as blank journals and foolscap and vellum and parchment with wax for sealing, all arrayed at hand or on the shelves above should she have the need to write. Camille looked about in wonder, and then stepped to one of the bookshelves and reverently ran her fingers across several of the spines of the leather-bound books thereon and whispered, “Oh, so very many.”
They lingered but a moment, and Lanval then led her through a small doorway and into another shade- managed, skylighted chamber; therein stood a great bed, covered with a yellow-gold, satin spread, with pale yellow silk draping down from the canopy above, the curtains held back by yellow-gold, satin ribbons tied ’round the four massive bed-posts. In this chamber as well were sitting chairs upholstered in yellow satin and cream silk. There, too, sat a wide vanity table and bench, an oval, silvered mirror on the wall above; a silver comb and brush and a hand mirror lay ready for use, with powders and rouges and soft brushes and cloths, and vials of fragrances at hand as well.
Lanval then pointed out the bathing room, with its great stone tub and stone basin chased in gold, and soft towels and facecloths and soaps and gentle bath oils and other such lady’s fare. In this chamber, too, a skylight stood above.
Camille looked about. “Is it all gold and yellow and cream?” she asked. “-The rooms elsewhere, I mean.”
Lanval smiled. “Nay, my lady. Elsewhere the rooms are of green and blue and red and white and other hues of the rainbow. These chambers, though, were intended to be a reflection of the gold of your hair.”
“Oh, my,” said Camille, and she glanced back toward the bedroom and the open doors to the rooms beyond.
Lanval cleared his throat. “My lady, the privy is yon.” He pointed to a curtained archway connected to the bathing room.
Camille stepped to the arch and peered into the skylighted chamber beyond-a goodly sized room with a commode enclosing a chamber pot, and a table with a washbasin and pitcher thereon, along with soap in a dish; shelves and racks laden with cloths and towels and additional bars of soap ranged along the walls; therein, too, sat a lidded bucket for disposal of that which was used. As she surveyed the chamber, Camille could not help but to think back to her papa’s stone cottage, with its burlap curtain on a rough hemp cord and the wooden bucket with its lid.
Sighing, she turned back to Lanval, and from her bedchamber he escorted her through a heavily curtained, gilded, glass-paned door, and Camille found herself on the central high balcony looking down onto the great entry
