Page 19 of Stardust Child

“It is not only to meditate upon flaws,” the madam continued when everyone was situated, with Pili and Bilaki seated on low wooden stools and Huvara guarding the door, staff in hand. “The maiden must also see what parts are beautiful.”

Serenityseemed to mean many things. With the patient cajoling of a cleric, the madam questioned Ophele about the condition of her body as Pili and Bilaki washed it, asking about places that hurt, things that she did not like—her second toes were longer than her big toes, was that normal?—and searching for something that she did like, so Ophele would increase her serenity by understanding herself better.

“His Grace likes my hair,” she finally admitted, when pressed. She did not think of herself as beautiful. She was a little brown mouse, plain as a sparrow. But it was true that Remin was always touching and admiring it, and sometimes he liked to brush it for no reason at all.

From the heated tub, they moved her to a second, cooler one, and she could almost feel the cold water flooding into her open pores, mixed with some effervescent solution that made her feel as if she were dissolving into the water. By then she had relaxed enough to ask about their staffs, and the madam explained that some attendants carried whips and staffs, bloodless weapons that would not defile the sacred precincts of the bath, while others strung bells on the bushes to warn if anyone approached.

“Do all women in Benkki Desa know how to use weapons?” Ophele asked, looking a little enviously at Huvara with her wooden staff.

“No, noble lady,” Huvara answered, as if she had felt Ophele’s eyes on her. “Some of Niravi’s attendants are suited for the staff, and others, like gentle Svala, must listen for the bells. But Niravi says this is not a shame.”

This knowledge of self was the core of a maiden’s serenity, and not limited to the bath. A maiden built the sphere of her serenity fromcontemplation of her naked self, and then carried it forth into the world, a calm core of self-knowledge reinforced by every subsequent understanding.

Ophele wondered if a man’s serenity was any different, or if it mattered that she definitely was not a maiden, as evidenced by the bite mark Pili found on her backside. It was a lovely philosophy, she thought; one that inquired gently whether she wished to change, while forgiving her for what she was. Lying in the third bath as Pili and Bilaki polished her hair and nails with silk, she drifted. She was half asleep when they lifted her from the final bath and let her fall face-down on something soft and cool and sweetly scented, and when they woke her, she felt as if she had been dreaming in the middle of a cloud.

“Noble lady, His Grace has come.” Madam Sanai’s fingers drifted over Ophele’s forehead, deftly manipulating the pressure points at her temples. Pili and Bilaki were behind her, waiting with Ophele’s clothes. But they didn’t just stuff her into them and send her on her way; once dressed, she was given a cup of cool, minty tea while Bilaki brushed her hair, and left her feeling like a gem getting a final polishing.

“Has your serenity increased, noble lady?” Madam Sanai asked at the entrance, in formal tones that required an honest answer.

“Yes,” Ophele replied, in perfect truth, and with the feeling that this serenity was something she could carry with her into the world.

Remin was waiting in the small garden to the left of the gates, sitting on a bench with a cup of tea sitting untouched beside him. He rose as soon as she appeared around the corner, and Ophele felt gratifyingly pretty as she hurried over to him, her long hair floating loose and silky behind her like a banner.

“You look as if it suited you,” he said, rumbling with contentment as he bent to kiss her. “Did you like it?”

“Very much.” She lifted a hand to cover his mouth as he nuzzled dangerously toward her neck. “The walls are made of paper,” she whispered, glancing at them meaningfully.

“That’s not much worse than the cottage,” he grumbled, his face snuffling into her hair, for all the world like a huge black dog. “You smell so good…”

So did he. She caught the scent of something crisp and woodsy on his skin, and when he reluctantly straightened, his black hair gleamed in the sunshine.

“Were you at the men’s baths?” she asked, taking his arm as he turned toward the gate.

“I thought I might as well. Though I can’t imagine what I would do in a bath for three hours. Alone,” he added, with a teasing glint that made her turn pink. Secretly, she thought she would quite like to bathe with him.

“It was three baths,” she explained. “And they fussed over my hair and nails for a long time, and then a massage, I think. I fell asleep. But it was so pretty inside, there were murals on the walls that I loved, forests and rivers, please remind me to tell Master Didion about them. Did they have those in the men’s baths?”

“There was a sea serpent,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching at her excitement. “A blue one.”

“Oh. All I saw was a carp. But it was pretty, with pink and red fins. And I want to send an invitation to Auber’s relatives to come,” she added, looking up at him earnestly. “Not with me, I know, but I want them to know they’re welcome. And that little girl, too.”

“We can.” Remin still hadn’t really forgiven them for hurting her feelings. “I’ll tell Auber.”

“Did they talk to you about serenity, in the bath?” she asked, curious. “Madam Sanai said maidens contemplate serenity, and how we have to accept some things and try to change others. And we have a sphere of serenity that we bring with us wherever we go. Do men get one?”

“According to Master Balad, men’s bathing is about building clean strength,” he answered. “Purifying the body, seeking harmony in all its workings, making the blood flow hot and smooth to the muscles. I don’t think contemplating serenity would get men into a bath.”

“Oh.” This was probably true, but the cynical answer was a little disappointing. “I don’t suppose men would need bells or guards, either. You don’t have to worry about women sneaking up on you to see you naked.” She entirely missed the amused glance he shot her. “But Huvara said they train with those staffs as soon as they turn twelve, did you know that?”

“Madam Sanai said as much,” he replied. “I tested her when they arrived. They are very skilled. Otherwise they’d have guards, whether they wanted them or not.”

“I wish I could have seen that,” she said wistfully. “I never knew women could fight like that.”

“Well, you can.” His fingers tugged her silky hair to make her look up at him, pleased to grant even the least of her wishes. “Tomorrow.”

* * *

It pleased Remin when a single action accomplished many objectives. Just as his wife found satisfaction in patterns, he enjoyed killing many birds with one stone, even if it took a boulder to knock them out of the sky.

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