Do I go down for a tray?” Constance was sitting upon a linen draped stool, bathing her naked skin with the marigold infused water she’d called for. Considering the current state of her appetite she handed the wet cloth to Elsa, one of her young serving maids, and took the drying cloth from Ella, Elsa’s sister and Constance’s other serving maid. “I daresay a bite of something would do me more good than not.” When the old woman nodded and started off, she added, “Nothing too heavy, mind.” Giving the signal for the sisters to dispose of the washing things, Constance retrieved the day old chemise from the trunk at the foot of the bedstead and put it back on. As she did so she was reminded of how Adele had admired its fineness and Sir Fulke its revealing neckline. Alone now, Constance collected the gold silk Persian coat her brother had acquired for her while on crusade (he’d accompanied their father, who’d suffered terribly under the sweltering temperatures of that eastern world and perished after consuming contaminated food just before the Siege of Acre) with Prince Edward prior to his becoming king.
