Erik crossed the room and opened the connecting door. A quick glance showed that the second room was exactly like the first, save that it was blue.
“Enjoy your bath, Kristine,” he said.
“It will be all right,” she said reassuringly. “You’ll see.”
He nodded, then went into the other room and closed the door. For a moment, he pictured her disrobing, slipping into the tub’s scented water. He wished fleetingly that he could join her in the tub, that he could take the soap from her hand and—
He jerked his thoughts away from the images that rose in his mind. Though she did not appear repulsed by his appearance, he could not bring himself to let her see him unclothed, could not endure the pity in her eyes.
He undressed and slid into the tub, noting for the first time that there was no mirror in this room, nothing to reflect his image back to him.
He washed quickly and stepped out of the tub, shaking the way a dog shakes when it emerges from water. He swore when he realized what he was doing. Reaching for a strip of toweling, he dried off, then dressed in the trousers and tunic that had been left for him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he drew on a pair of soft leather boots that were cut to accommodate his changed feet, as well as a pair of gloves, the left one tailored to fit over his disfigured hand. There was also a mask made of fine black silk.
He picked it up and slipped it on, grateful for the mage’s thoughtfulness. He had felt vulnerable, naked, without the mask.
Crossing the floor, he knocked softly on the connecting door. “Kristine?”
“Come in.”
She glanced over her shoulder as he stepped into the room. Erik’s gaze ran over her. The mauve gown complemented her skin and eyes. Her hair framed her face like a golden nimbus. She looked beautiful, radiant with the bloom of motherhood.
She smiled at him, and then she frowned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“The mask. Where did it come from?”
“The wizard provided it.”
“It isn’t necessary, Erik. Your face does not frighten me.”
“It is not for you,” he replied quietly. “It is for me.”
She started to say something, but it was forgotten as a large covered tray appeared on the table.
“Oh, my,” she murmured. “Fires that burn without wood. Bathtubs that disappear. And now this.”
Erik glanced around the room, only now noticing that the bathtub was gone, that the fire did indeed burn without fuel of any kind. At least none that could be seen.
Kristine uncovered the tray, revealing two pewter plates heaped with food, and two goblets of sparkling red wine.
Erik stared at the meal provided—chicken and dumplings for Kristine, a slab of near-raw meat for him. The sight of it was a blatant reminder of what he was becoming.
Kristine said nothing, only looked up at him through eyes filled with sympathy and compassion and a quiet, desperate hope.
Erik turned away, his appetite gone. He knew his host had not meant to insult him, knew the venison, served very rare, was meant to be a token of hospitality. He did not stop to wonder how the mage knew his preference.
He paced the floor while Kristine ate her supper at his urging. He did not want or need her to refuse her meal because he refused his. She had the child to think of.
Kristine pushed away from the table, hiding a yawn behind her hand. She was often tired in the afternoon these days.
“You should rest,” Erik said, divining her thoughts.
“I could use a nap,” she agreed. Crossing the floor, she sat on the bed, patting the mattress beside her. “Will you not rest with me, my lord husband? You must be weary, as well.”
It was not exhaustion but the wish to be near her that propelled him to her side. She stretched out on the bed, and he lay beside her, drawing her against him. With a sigh, Kristine pillowed her head on his shoulder. Even now, when she had seen him without his mask, without covering of any kind, he was careful to keep her on his right, careful to keep his mask in place.
She gazed up at the ceiling, noticing the painting there for the first time. Clouds seemed to drift overhead. And there, amidst the clouds, was a full moon and countless bright stars. A moon that glowed with a silver light. Stars that twinkled.
“Erik, look.” She pointed upward. “’Tis the most amazing thing.”
He looked up, brow furrowed. It was, indeed, amazing. And as he watched, the sight grew even more astonishing. The moon and clouds drifted across the ceiling, the moon disappeared, to be replaced by a bright golden sun. After a time, the sun went down, and dark clouds scudded across the ceiling-sky, and then a rainbow stretched above them.
“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” Kristine murmured.