his hands now, and prepared myself. I faced myself in
the mirror, and I seemed to be the same eyes and lips.
What those eyes and seen and what those lips had
done! A monstrous joy, one that both reveled in my
transgressions and resented them, had buried itself
inside me and was only emerging in my consciousness
now with the melting of the snow.
Hilda, of course, arrived first as I set out the
tea. She began to babble on and on about her husband
not cutting enough wood and having to leave in the
middle of the storm to gather more. I kindly explained
to her that the proper amount of wood in a snow-
storm is equal to three times one’s regular
consumption or twice what one believes one needs.
Hilda, though, seemed more confused than
enlightened by this information.
It was then that I remember to bring my lord
his elevensies. I gathered some cheese and tea and
biscuits onto a tray, and grabbed a candle in the other
hand, thinking to bring it all to my lord quickly, before
the other servants arrived.
“A lot to carry. Need any help, love?”
“Not as such.” I didn’t want Hilda to see us
together—though, simple as she was, I’m sure this
fear was unfounded. I walked, tray in one hand, candle
in the other when—a face! I jumped and dropped my
tray. Embarrassment set in. I’d need to clean this and
get my lord another quickly. Like a fool, I set my
candle down too close to the drapes, not noticing
what was happening as I hurried to clean the mess.
The woman, my lord’s late wife with the bejeweled
neck, smirked at me.
37