her passing.
Feeling a bit better, Catherine tried once more to get up but the room continued to
shift around her and she lay back with an annoyed rush of breath pushing from her
lips. She was staring up at the ceiling when Nyria came back.
“Are you feeling any better?” the housekeeper asked.
“I’m still dizzy,” Catherine complained.
“I have another elixir. The master asks you to drink it very slowly,” Nyria said as
she came to the bed. She slid a hand under Catherine’s neck and helped her to raise
enough to sip the brew.
A very pleasant taste spread over Catherine’s taste buds. Slightly tangy but with a
sweetness she found went down smoothly made her feel warm inside, though it was
cool on her tongue.
“What is that flavor?” she asked as Nyria slid her hand from beneath Catherine’s
head.
“Mango,” Nyria said, “with a touch of lime juice and the master’s magical
powders.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask what kind of powders for I do not know nor
would I ask.”
“It tasted very good.”
“Try to rise now,” Nyria ordered.
Catherine gingerly sat up and was relieved to find her head was no longer
spinning. She was able to swing her legs from the bed and sit on the edge without the
room canting off center. She smiled.
58
Shades of the Wind
“Better?”
“Much better, Nyria,” Catherine agreed.
“Shall I choose something for you to wear today or would you prefer to do so?” The
housekeeper was moving toward the armoire.
“Something lightweight and cool would be nice,” Catherine said. “Something I can
wear to help the women clean.”
Nyria pursed her lips but remained silent as she picked a cotton day dress from
among those hanging in the armoire. She brought it over to the bed then went to
retrieve underwear for Catherine.
“There is fresh water in the basin,” Nyria told her. She nodded toward the screen
that hid the copper tub from view.
Walking slowly and carefully over to the bathing area of the room, Catherine felt
well enough. She relieved herself, pulled off her gown and washed her face, neck and
underarms. Nyria hung the underwear over the screen—as well as the dress—and was
waiting for Catherine when the young woman had finished dressing.
“The master may be able to dine with you at the noon meal, but do not be surprised
if he does not appear,” the housekeeper informed her. “I am amazed he is up and about
so early since I am sure he had a late evening yesterday.” She lifted her chin. “Lord
Bahru is still abed.”
Catherine smoothed the front of her dress. “He sleeps in nearly every day, Nyria.
That is his custom.”
“Laziness seems to be his custom,” Nyria complained.
“I suppose it does appear to be that way,” Catherine agreed. “He says he is a night
person.”
Nyria sniffed then stood aside for Catherine to precede her from the room.
“Are the women here already?” she asked for sounds were coming from below.
“They arrived ten minutes ago and I have set them to doing what I thought you
would order done. You may direct them as you see fit. They will remain until an hour
before sunset.”
Catherine glanced at the housekeeper as they reached the stairway. Something odd
lurked in Nyria’s expression and Catherine was loath to go ahead of the woman down
the winding staircase. She leaned against the wall, pretending to adjust her slipper and
Nyria—after a moment’s hesitation and a sniff of disdain—started down the stairs.
There were burly men moving the furniture about in the parlor, young boys rolling
up the carpet to be taken outside to be beaten and cleaned while several women were
busy washing and polishing knickknacks, dusting the paintings and sweeping up
behind the men who were carrying the carpets out. No one seemed willing to touch the
large painting of Prince Khenty and even seemed to be reluctant to look at the imposing
portrait.
59
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
“Tell them what
Feeling a bit better, Catherine tried once more to get up but the room continued to
shift around her and she lay back with an annoyed rush of breath pushing from her
lips. She was staring up at the ceiling when Nyria came back.
“Are you feeling any better?” the housekeeper asked.
“I’m still dizzy,” Catherine complained.
“I have another elixir. The master asks you to drink it very slowly,” Nyria said as
she came to the bed. She slid a hand under Catherine’s neck and helped her to raise
enough to sip the brew.
A very pleasant taste spread over Catherine’s taste buds. Slightly tangy but with a
sweetness she found went down smoothly made her feel warm inside, though it was
cool on her tongue.
“What is that flavor?” she asked as Nyria slid her hand from beneath Catherine’s
head.
“Mango,” Nyria said, “with a touch of lime juice and the master’s magical
powders.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask what kind of powders for I do not know nor
would I ask.”
“It tasted very good.”
“Try to rise now,” Nyria ordered.
Catherine gingerly sat up and was relieved to find her head was no longer
spinning. She was able to swing her legs from the bed and sit on the edge without the
room canting off center. She smiled.
58
Shades of the Wind
“Better?”
“Much better, Nyria,” Catherine agreed.
“Shall I choose something for you to wear today or would you prefer to do so?” The
housekeeper was moving toward the armoire.
“Something lightweight and cool would be nice,” Catherine said. “Something I can
wear to help the women clean.”
Nyria pursed her lips but remained silent as she picked a cotton day dress from
among those hanging in the armoire. She brought it over to the bed then went to
retrieve underwear for Catherine.
“There is fresh water in the basin,” Nyria told her. She nodded toward the screen
that hid the copper tub from view.
Walking slowly and carefully over to the bathing area of the room, Catherine felt
well enough. She relieved herself, pulled off her gown and washed her face, neck and
underarms. Nyria hung the underwear over the screen—as well as the dress—and was
waiting for Catherine when the young woman had finished dressing.
“The master may be able to dine with you at the noon meal, but do not be surprised
if he does not appear,” the housekeeper informed her. “I am amazed he is up and about
so early since I am sure he had a late evening yesterday.” She lifted her chin. “Lord
Bahru is still abed.”
Catherine smoothed the front of her dress. “He sleeps in nearly every day, Nyria.
That is his custom.”
“Laziness seems to be his custom,” Nyria complained.
“I suppose it does appear to be that way,” Catherine agreed. “He says he is a night
person.”
Nyria sniffed then stood aside for Catherine to precede her from the room.
“Are the women here already?” she asked for sounds were coming from below.
“They arrived ten minutes ago and I have set them to doing what I thought you
would order done. You may direct them as you see fit. They will remain until an hour
before sunset.”
Catherine glanced at the housekeeper as they reached the stairway. Something odd
lurked in Nyria’s expression and Catherine was loath to go ahead of the woman down
the winding staircase. She leaned against the wall, pretending to adjust her slipper and
Nyria—after a moment’s hesitation and a sniff of disdain—started down the stairs.
There were burly men moving the furniture about in the parlor, young boys rolling
up the carpet to be taken outside to be beaten and cleaned while several women were
busy washing and polishing knickknacks, dusting the paintings and sweeping up
behind the men who were carrying the carpets out. No one seemed willing to touch the
large painting of Prince Khenty and even seemed to be reluctant to look at the imposing
portrait.
59
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
“Tell them what
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