Morag strode across the blue carpet and opened the far door. “There’s a bathtub in here,” she said, as I followed her. “You can use it in the morning, if you wish.”
I peered into the chamber. The bathroom was larger than I’d expected, but strikingly empty. A tub … and not much else. No toilet, no shower … not even soap and freshener. There weren’t even any taps on the bathtub. The sink looked as if it had been designed for a child of five, not a girl of twelve. It was tiny. The mirror was placed so low that I’d have to bend over to see my face. Someone Morag’s height would have to kneel down to use it.
Morag turned back into the bedroom. “You can put your clothes in the wardrobe, if you wish,” she said. She opened the broken door to reveal a handful of shelves and a clothing rail, tiny compared to the walk-in closet I’d had back home. “Or you can leave them in your trunk …”
I caught her arm. “Morag … where do I go to the toilet?”
Morag yanked her arm free. “There’s a chamberpot under the bed,” she said, briskly. “This place was built before indoor plumbing really became a thing. A few pipes were run through the house, but not enough to support anything larger than a sink. Make sure you empty the chamberpot every morning or you’ll regret it.”
“… Oh,” I said. No showers? I shuddered at the thought. My skin felt thoroughly unclean after five days in the carriage. I probably smelt terrible. The armsman hadn’t allowed me to do more than wash my face and hands. “I …”
Morag ignored me as she plucked the lantern off the wall and put it on the bedside table. “I assume you’ve used one of these before,” she said. “Tap once to turn off the light, tap twice to turn it back on again. Is there anything else you need before you go to bed?”
I glanced at the trunks. “Can you unlock the trunks?”
Morag lifted her eyebrows. I held up my arm to show her the cuff. Her lips smiled, just for a second, then she opened the first trunk. I dug through the clothes to find my nightgown - I tried to ignore her snort when she saw it - and put it on the bed. I’d have to unpack everything else tomorrow, if I wanted to wear something new. The trunk closed and locked again as Morag turned away, heading for the door. I was too tired to care.
“Sleep well,” Morag said. She didn’t bother to look back. “And good night.”
I undressed hastily, dropping my sodden dress and underclothes on the floor, then pulled the nightgown on and climbed into bed before it got too cold. The mattress felt hard, so hard that I had to roll over and over before I felt remotely comfortable. My duvet was thin, too thin. I had the feeling that whoever normally occupied the room, if anyone normally occupied the room, used magic to keep themselves warm. I knew a dozen spells that would turn the room into a furnace, none of which I could cast as long as I wore the cuff. Shaking my head, I reached for the lantern and tapped it once. The room plunged into darkness. No light filtered through the shutters. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep …
… And then I felt a presence in the room, a sense of something - or someone - peering down at me. Absolute terror gripped me, just for a second; I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even breathe. I hadn’t been so scared since the very first time someone had cast a freeze spell on me, back when I’d been learning magic. The presence moved closer and closer, as if it was right on top of me … I thought I could feel someone touching the back of my neck, icy cold hands brushing against my skin. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out as the presence faded back into the night …
… And, when I awoke the following morning, I was half-convinced I’d had a nightmare.