hall below, now empty of all, including the Bear.
Camille turned to Lanval. “My lord-” she began, but Lanval raised a hand to halt her words.
“My lady, no highborn lord am I, but merely the steward of Summerwood Manor. Please call me Lanval.”
Camille sighed. “But I am not highborn either, Lanval, for until a handful of days past, and even still, I was and am nought but a mere crofter’s daughter.”
“Nevertheless, my lady, highborn or low-, you are the betrothed of my prince”-Lanval’s blue eyes did twinkle-“and from what I can discern of thy bearing and manner, he did choose most wisely.”
At the mention of her pledged future, Camille did start, for somehow in the display of all the opulence she had managed to forget entirely the reason she had come to this manor, yet Lanval’s words did jerk her back to reality.
Camille took a deep breath. “When will I meet the prince?”
Lanval looked down at the white marble floor far below, with its granite and malachite inlay. “It may be awhile, for he recently returned from a long journey.” Lanval then smiled at Camille. “You, too, have journeyed far, and must needs bathe and rest.” He stepped back into the bedchamber, Camille following, where he tugged on a yellow silk pull cord and said, “This will summon your handmaid. She is close by in her chamber, or mayhap in the servants’ hall. Regardless, these cords are in each room of your suite, and should you have need, simply pull, and aid will be here in a trice.”
“Handmaid? Oh, Lanval, what need have I for such?”
“My lady, you would not have the prince send her away, would you?”
“Oh, Lanval, would he do so?”
Lanval smiled. “I think not, my lady. Still, you must allow her to do that for which she was… intended. She will attend you, as well as show you the house and the grounds, and will speak of where breakfast is to be found, and other such daily matters. Yet I caution you to not ask of the prince, for he has made it plain it is a matter between the two of you.”
Again Camille’s heart leapt to her throat, for who but a monster or creature of some sort would have all keep silent in matters concerning himself, even unto his intended.
As they returned to the sitting room, there came a soft knock on the outer door, and Lanval called, “Enter!”
An ample young woman in a simple black gown stepped into the chamber. In her hands she bore Camille’s goods, taken from the Bear’s harness. Hastily, she set all upon a small table beside the door, then curtseyed and murmured, “My lady.”
“This is Blanche,” said Lanval, “your lady’s maid.”
Blanche looked to be no older than Camille, though she stood perhaps an inch or two taller. Fair was her skin, and black her hair, and her eyes so dark as to be black as well.
“Blanche,” said Lanval, “the lady needs to freshen up after her long journey, and to shed her travelling clothes for somethi-”
“Oh, Lanval,” blurted Camille, looking at the scant bundle holding her meager belongings. “I brought nought but a simple shift with me, one quite threadbare at that. Certainly nothing as elegant as these garments I now wear.”
Blanche smiled knowingly, even as Lanval said, “Show my lady her dressing chamber, Blanche.”
As Blanche clapped her hands together in pleasure, Lanval added, “My lady, now that you are in good hands, I return to my other duties. Even so, should you have need of aught…” He bowed low, and then turned and stepped to the door.
As he exited, Camille called after, “Merci, Lanval.”
“My lady,” said Blanche, a gleam of pleasure in her eye, “if you will but follow me.”
Blanche led her mistress through a small doorway off the bedchamber and into a dim room, where the handmaid tugged on a pull cord, drawing the shade from the skylight above. And Camille drew in a great breath of incredulity, for revealed was a room perhaps even larger than the bedchamber itself; and it was filled with splendid clothes: gowns, dresses, skirts, blouses, chemises, shifts, jackets, lingerie, shoes, boots, gloves, cloaks, hats, ribbons, jewelry cases, and more. Camille gaped at the trove in disbelief, her astonishment reflected in the gilt- framed, full-length mirror affixed to the far wall therein.
“Oh, Blanche, these are marvelous, yet I wonder if they will fit.”
Blanche laughed. “My lady, they were fashioned for you alone.”
“But how? I mean, it’s not as if someone came in the night and took my measure.”
“Do not be too certain of that, my lady,” said Blanche, grinning, pulling at the cord to close the skylight blind above and protect the clothes against sun damage. “And now let us to the tub with you.”
That eve, served by Blanche, Camille, while abed, ate a delicious meal of biscuits and butter and jellies and tea and cream over berries, for the handmaid insisted that she needed rest after such a long journey. And so, bathed and scented, Camille sat propped against many pillows in her great, soft bed, the first ever she had not had to share with a sister or two. And in the middle of that vast expanse, with a bed tray across her lap, her meal half- eaten, Camille fell quite asleep, for it seemed, after all, Blanche was right.
The very next day, Blanche escorted Camille about the great manor, showing her all within, all that is but one floor of one wing-“ ’Tis the quarters of the prince himself, when he’s about, that is, and none but Lanval is permitted therein.-Oh, once a fortnight, maids are allowed, but only under Lanval’s eye.” Camille frowned, for she did not think those chambers would be forbidden to her, for, after all, even though she had yet to meet Alain, she was his betrothed, hence surely she would not be barred; yet she did not gainsay her handmaid.
All through the rest of the mansion they went, with its sitting rooms and guest rooms and ballrooms and rooms of other sorts, some small, some large, some vast. In one of the smaller chambers sat an elegant harp, with violins in cases nearby. Lyres and lutes and tambourines and small drums lay in the chamber as well. In the next room sat a harpsichord, and though neither Camille nor Blanche could play, they sat on the bench and struck the keys and laughed at the plucked dissonance they made. Even so, Camille looked longingly at the music sheet on the board above the keys, and she wondered at the symbols thereon and yearned to be able to read the arcane notations and play. Elsewhere, in several ballrooms, other harpsichords sat, some on stages, others directly on the ballroom floors, others still on balconies above.
Guest rooms abounded, and they sampled a number, and each one they entered was furnished in elegant taste. And with but few exceptions, nearly all the chambers had fireplaces-“Seldom used,” said Blanche, “given the warmth of summer.”
“Yet the rooms are not overwarm in the summer sun,” replied Camille, frowning. “And even though my chambers have no outside windows, still I believe I felt a drift of air therein.”
“Oh, my lady, that’s one of the wonders of Summerwood Manor,” replied Blanche. “I am told by Renaud the smith that on the many roofs, great scoops with fins that catch the wind and turn their mouths into the blow, direct the air down through channels in the walls to the rooms within, and the air does flow onward and out other hidden channels beyond. Only on the hottest or stillest of summer days might it become uncomfortable, but then we all sleep outside.” Blanche pointed up at a wide lattice in one wall, and then down near the floor on the opposite wall to another. “Have you not seen the grillwork in your chambers, my lady?”
“I thought it was just decorative,” replied Camille.
Blanche smiled, and on they went, visiting the servants’ chamber down below, butlers and maids jumping to their feet and bowing and curtseying. Camille merely nodded in acknowledgment, having been instructed by Blanche that such would be sufficient, and onward they went.
They visited the kitchens as well, and here Camille was given a sweet pastry to hold her until the noonday meal, even though she had eaten breakfast in her bed, served to her by Blanche.
Through a laundry room they passed, with its great tubs sitting on platforms, wood-fired heating chambers beneath, cold for the nonce, no laundresses in sight.
They came to a door which seemed about to burst with women’s laughter. Blanche grinned, saying, “Follow me,” and they entered into a sewing chamber filled with gaiety, a half dozen seamstresses laughing. Upon seeing Camille their voices stilled, though mirth yet dwelled in their eyes, and the women rose from chairs and curtseyed. Feeling as if she had interrupted a festive party, Camille did thank them all for fashioning so many lovely clothes for her to wear. And then she and Blanche withdrew.
Later on they entered a ladies’ sewing chamber, with its tambour frames and sewing baskets and daylight
