"Nanny, what happened to me? I can't remember. My mind is in a fog. Tell me what happened."

The woman looked away. "You're too weak still to hear the whole story."

I don't see how suspense will make me feel better, Aliya thought. Then she made a sad face. "Please tell me. Please."

She couldn't force a tear, but the woman was touched anyway. She looked down and said quietly, "You lost the baby. It was a boy."

It wasn't clear what kind of reaction she expected, but Aliya kept her eyes down and asked another question. "I see. What else?"

"You had childbed fever for three days. The medicus came and let your bad blood and gave you a cleansing remedy. Nothing helped."

Aliya's eyes flashed in anger. "Don't let that fool in here to see me again. I'll rip his legs off."

The nanny almost choked when she heard that. "But child, how can you say that? Your husband sent him all the way from Lavery when he heard you were unwell."

"Perhaps he hoped that idiot would do me in," Aliya grumbled.

"Whatever do you mean?" the nanny burst out. "Medicus Craybey is one of the best physicians in Lavery. Even the king has deigned to use his services."

"That's the king's problem. Why did I lose the baby?"

The nanny shrugged. "Medicus Craybey said that you fell on the stairs."

"Is that so?"

"We found you at the bottom of the stairs. There was a lot of blood. I was afraid you wouldn't make it." The nanny sniffled and hid her face in her apron.

"Not a chance of that," Aliya whispered to herself. The woman didn't hear her and continued to sniffle.

Aliya studied the woman. She was short and looked to be about sixty years old, with a tired but pleasant face. She had something like a little cap pinned to her hair. Aliya had only seen things like that in movies, but she was pretty sure that the sleazy fabric covering half the woman's hair was intended to be a cap.

Her dress was made of what looked like homespun fabric in a grayish-brown color. It was plain, without bows or ruffles. The apron was as dirty as the dress. She couldn't see what the woman had on her feet because the dress went all the way to the floor. It must function like a prehistoric vacuum cleaner when she walks.

Aliya sighed and spoke again, making her voice as sweet as possible, "Nanny, I need your help. I'm alive, and I want to get my health back. It's going to take a lot of effort."

The old woman dropped the apron from her face. Her gray eyes shone with fire, and Aliya realized that the woman loved her just as fiercely as her parents did back in her own world. This was a person who would do anything for her.

Anything at all. Whatever I ask for. A person like that is valuable. She could be useful.

Aliya kept her face neutral. She put on a small smile and said, "I want to try to stand up. I need to wash."

"How can you stand up, child? The medicus said that you should stay in bed another tennight!

"It's all right," Aliya gasped as she struggled to sit, ignoring the pain in her lower abdomen. "I can do it. And I really need to take a bath!"

"But washing is so unhealthy! That is what Father Vopler says."

"He's welcome to have all the lice he can handle," Aliya said, her patience wearing thin. When she saw the disappointment on the woman's face, she changed her tone to something between whining and begging. "Nanny, please help me."

The nanny (it would be nice to know her name) sighed and shook her head. "But Lily dear, it's so bad for you."

"Please!"

"Oh, all right. You lie here while I order some hot water. When I come back, I'll help you stand up."

Aliya nodded in agreement.

Thoughtfully, Aliya watched her leave. Then she began studying the room again. Unfortunately, all of the pink décors was still there. Looking closer this time, she began to suspect that the fabric on the walls was pretty expensive. Aliya was sure that the curtains would cost a fortune in her world. She had a friend who moonlighted as a seamstress and was always trying to teach Aliya about armsyces, darts, gussets, inserts, cross-stitch, machine embroidery and all the different kinds of seams. There was too much to remember, but Aliya could tell hand stitching from machine stitching, even at a distance.

A tennight is ten days, and a month is forty days. A year has nine months and three extra days, the length of which depends on the phase of the moon. New Year's is celebrated during those three days.

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