Estelle poured the bottle of liquid into the bath, commenting dryly, “Well lad, maybe you are in fine fettle after all. If I were younger I might like a ride on that myself.” She laughed heartily as Drace blushed to the roots of his hair. “Ahh, be at peace boy, you are safe with me.”
“What is this stuff?” Drace asked taking the bottle from her and sniffing it. It had the smell of fresh grass and something astringent, but it wasn’t
Estelle took the bottle back from him and set it on a table. “That will help your muscle soreness. Lay back lad. This is for your face.” She took the cloth and dipped it in the basin then laid the cloth over his eyes and nose. Each time the cloth cooled she reapplied it. She removed it after a few minutes. “Soak for a little bit while I find some clothes for you. When I come back I will shave you and brush the nests out of your hair.”
Forty-five minutes later he stood with only a towel wrapped around his lean hips, hair freshly washed and combed, face shaved, feeling almost human again.
Estelle handed him a pair of linen under-drawers and then a pair of soft doeskin breeches. She handed him a sleeveless tunic of black cloth. It had gold embroidery along the hem, was open at the throat and the hem hung past his hips with a slash on each side for ease of movement. He dressed and marveled as everything fit as if specially made for him, down to the thin stockings he wore with his own riding boots.
Estelle stood back admiring her work. “Excellent, my Lord. You clean up well.”
Drace’s stomach gave a loud grumble at that moment.
“Poor thing,” Estelle said. “Can you find your way to the hall? I believe they will be gathering for the evening meal now.”
“I think so,” he replied and headed for the door, stopped and came back to Estelle. He put her face between his hands and said, “Thank you for everything, Estelle. You are a peach.” Then he kissed her quickly on the forehead.
She gasped and turned crimson. He gave her a devilish grin and left