The colorless woman opened her eyes to the warm glow surrounding her. The room was full of gold. Gilding on the bedposts and walls, golden threads in the bed curtains, a gold frame surrounding a mirror of pure water—she closed her eyes again and turned away from that. The last thing she wanted to see was her own reflection.
When she raised her lids again, there was more gold. The gold of candlelight shining on the white-gold braid draped over the shoulder of a Rudioban maiden.
Flowing Gold.
“So. You’re awake.” Lady Gleamdren sat on a chair near the bedside, her eyes narrow, her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s about time.”
The colorless woman opened her mouth, but her throat was raw and she found it difficult to speak. Then she gasped, a tearing sound in her chest, and cried out, “The Dogs!” She sat up in the bed, her long hair falling about her shoulders like a shawl and partially covering her face. But one bright eye gazed out from between the limp strands. “The Black Dogs! Are they near?”
“Nice show, that,” said Gleamdren, twisting her lips. “I’d almost think you were truly frightened.”
The stranger blinked. As an afterthought she took another deep, shuddering breath. “How long have I slept?”
“Don’t give me that. You haven’t slept at all.”
The woman swallowed. The counterpane was heavy, and she pushed it back. Even it was quilted with golden thread on gold-spun cloths. “Who are you?” she asked the maid.
“Lady Gleamdrené Gormlaith. As if you didn’t know.”
A smile touched the woman’s mouth, tugging at its corners. “I did not know. But I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Less pleased am I!” Gleamdren hopped up from her chair and strode to the bedside. “You’re wearing my nightdress. Did you know that?”
The woman looked down at the soft green gown embroidered at the neck with dark leaves and, sure enough, more gold. She said nothing but picked at the rich collar.
“And do you want to know why you’re wearing my nightdress?” Gleamdren persisted. “Because every glamour-dazzled fool in Rudiobus has gone and fallen in love with you. Every one of them! Do you think I’ve a single suitor left this night to think of me?” As she spoke, her hands touched her own face as though to assure herself that she was still as pretty as she’d always been. Her mouth formed a hard line as she brandished her fists the stranger’s way, and the woman drew back a little from her.
“My only choice,” Gleamdren continued, “was to offer you my bed and my gown. Display my sweet-natured heart, you know. At least then, when the novelty of you has worn off and you’re long gone from Rudiobus, my suitors will still remember the kindness of Gleamdren.”
The smile on the woman’s face grew, and in her eyes, fires danced. “I am sure rumor of Lady Gleamdrené Gormlaith already flies across the worlds. Rumor of her beauty and of her favor in the court of Iubdan.”
Gleamdren looked mollified. “Well, it’s all Eanrin’s verses, you know,” she said modestly. “They do have a way of getting about, his being Iubdan’s Chief Poet. Not that I give him the time of day, mind you. I’m not such a fool as that. You give a lad an inkling of favor, and suddenly he forgets all that undying passion of his! Best to string them along—but you distract me.”
“Indeed, such was not my intent.” The counterpane fell back as the woman slid her legs around and over the edge of the bed. “Did you have something more to say to me, Lady Gleamdrené?”
“I want you to kidnap me.”
“What did you say?”
“I want you to kidnap me.” Gleamdren set her jaw. “I’m not a fool, you know. I did not fall for your little glamour.”
The woman said nothing. She stared into the maid’s eyes, momentarily uncertain.