But now, she had many thoughts about it.
None of them good.
The first thought was that if de Lara was going to force her to stay here, she was going to make sure that her accommodations were clean. She assumed that someone would come to see to her needs soon, to perhaps bring her food, and then she would demand that the linens be washed and the chamber cleaned of the stench of the former owner.
At her home, The Neath, Juliandra was an excellent chatelaine. She had a penchant for cleanliness, which is perhaps why this dirty chamber bothered her so badly. At home, she made sure floors were washed, tables were scrubbed, and linenswere washed and dried in the sun. If there was no sun, the linens were always dried by the heat of a roaring blaze.
Even her clothing was regularly cleaned because she did not like to wear dirty or stained garments. Whereas most noble ladies were relatively clean and well groomed, Juliandra relished a daily bath simply because it was warm and comforting, and that was how she usually started her day. Given that her father imported so many fabulous products, she had access to soaps and oils and cosmetics that most women did not. She loved the scents and the feel of them on her skin. Truth be told, she liked her comforts.
And all of those were back at home.
With a heavy sigh, she climbed out of bed, still wearing the same clothing she had come to Wybren in. There were heavy woolen curtains hanging over the windows that faced south and she pulled them back, inviting the bright, white sunlight into the dark and dusty chamber.
Squinting in the bright light, she peered from the window, seeing many people already entering and exiting Wybren. That told her that it was relatively late in the morning, and she yawned as she turned to the hearth on the opposite wall, which was an enormous cavern of brick and ashes. There had been a fire there the night before, but the fire was out, and the room was cold. Frustrated that no one had come to see to her care yet, she went to the door that opened out into the spiral staircase.
The staircase was dark, but she could hear the soft hum of conversation down below. Not wanting to leave the chamber for fear of the unknown below, she stood in the doorway safely and called down to whomever might be within earshot. She figured that she could jump back into the chamber and bolt the door should an angry soldier come her way.
“Is anyone down there?” she called. “Can you hear me?”
There was a long pause before a voice came back at her. “We hear you,” a man’s voice said. “What do you want?”
Juliandra snorted at the rude question. “Food and a fire would be appreciated,” she said. “And hot water to wash with. Where is Lord de Lara? I would speak with him, please.”
There was scuffling going on below as her requests were being discussed and Juliandra quietly shut the door and bolted it, heading back into the chamber. As she waited for action to be taken, she grew more curious about her surroundings. There really wasn’t much more to do while waiting for de Lara than take notice of what would probably become her prison cell.
She began to poke around.
It looked to her as if the chamber had not been cleaned out since the death of the previous lord. There was clutter everywhere, small tables, chairs, stools on end, chamber pots, and everything in between. In one of the turret chambers, the same one that held the big copper tub, there was a wardrobe. Curious, and wondering if there would be anything clean in there for her to wear, she went to the wardrobe and began yanking on the doors, which seemed to be stuck in position. Further examination showed that the iron hinges on the doors were rusted.
But that didn’t stop her.
Juliandra hung on to one of the doors, rocking it back and forth, until finally the iron hinge gave way and the door nearly came off. Startled, she jumped back so she wouldn’t be clipped by the falling door as the contents of the wardrobe were revealed.
Furs and heavy robes were surprisingly neatly packed into the crammed wardrobe. But there was also a basket that contained many wadded-up garments which, upon inspection, turned out to be tunics that were surprisingly fine. They weren’t clean, but the material was quality.
She dug around in the wardrobe for quite some time, inspecting all of the contents, hoping she would find something that she might be able to wear until de Lara agreed to send for her clothing. The dress she was wearing at the moment was very fine, and she could continue wearing it, but she worried about ruining it because a dress like this wasn’t made to be worn constantly.
At the very bottom of the basket in the wardrobe, she came across a long sleeping shirt. It had long sleeves and it was large for her small body, but it was shockingly clean. It didn’t smell like a man like the rest of the garments did, although it was a bit musty. Thinking it would be a good garment for her to at least sleep in until she had something better, she removed it and shook it out, taking it back into the main chamber and draping it over a chair that happened to be in a stream of sunlight. She thought perhaps the sun might be able to freshen it up a little. She was considering jumping back into the wardrobe again when there was a knock at the door.
Juliandra scooted over to the panel, unwilling to open it until she knew who was on the other side.
“Who comes?” she asked.
“De Lara.”
Quickly, she unbolted the door. Kevin was standing on the top step and behind him, she could see a veritable army of servants bearing food and hot water. Throwing the door back, Juliandra readily admitted them into the massive chamber.
They bustled about, heading to the hearth with wood and kindling, or heading into the chamber with the wardrobe in it. One man had a platter with cheese and bread upon it. That had Juliandra’s attention until she caught sight of de Lara out of her peripheral vision. He was moving into her line of sight.
That was when everything changed.
It took her a moment to realize that Kevin de Lara was truly something to behold in the daylight. Last night, the lighting had been dim, and shadows were everywhere, and it had been difficult to get a good look at de Lara other than to see that he was big and handsome. But in the daylight, she could see justhowhandsome.
For a moment, her breath caught in her throat.
There was something about him that was… clean. Fresh, strong, stalwart, untouched by evil or the trials of too much war, of seeing men die and of slaying men simply for the thrill of it. It was difficult to describe. It wasn’t that he was naïve or untried, because that clearly wasn’t the case. But there was a look about him, from his cropped hair to his big, booted feet that suggested something honorable and respectable.
The man had an aura about him.
