I said nothing. Her long scarf flapped against my shoulder. We passed more traveler’s trees, then fences, zebu and English cattle, rice fields. Perhaps that was why she was so tight with her soul, I was thinking.

Then I wondered why I had thought “soul”!

“ ‘Rice is life,’ the kings and queens used to say.”

Her long scarf flapped, struck my lip. I flicked it away with a finger.

“I’ll give you a book on Queen Betia.”

“Thanks.”

Wildflowers, vanilla.

56

“When it was a kingdom,” she said, glancing across at me and then back at the road, “there was more enchantment, but these days there’s no enchantment in the world. Maybe passion must take the place of enchantment in the modern world, but sometimes I think there’s no real passion either.”

I did not answer.

“Maybe it’s because I haven’t discovered it,” she said.

Her scarf hit me.

57

Returned from shopping, Miandra and I stood in the dining room. I was carrying some of her packages and started to put them down on the mahogany table.

“Come, let’s put them in my room. You haven’t seen my room.”

I followed her into her room, a room full of light with a canopied bed, brocaded chairs, lace curtains, silk scarfs on the dressing table. A princess’s room.

She put the packages she was carrying down in a chair and I followed suit.

“This is lovely. This is a beautiful room,” I said.

“Thank you. I like this room too . . . Why didn’t you buy anything?”

“I’m not much for shopping.”

She smiled at me. “You didn’t buy anything for you, so I did,” she exclaimed. Reaching for the tiniest of one of the packages, she opened it and took out a necklace made of teeth. She held it up to my neck. I moved away slightly.

She laughed. “It’s crocodile teeth. Some people still believe they’re magic. In Queen Betia’s day perhaps they were.” She put the necklace over my head. “There. It looks beautiful on you. You look very beautiful.”

She stood close to my face. I’m one who is stingy about my own space, so I backed away slightly.

“You seem a little nervous. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

I said nothing. She reached out and touched under my chin, straightening the necklace.

“It really looks nice. It looks nice against your skin.”

She moved away from me and sat down on the bed.

“I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap,” she said. “Aren’t you tired? Why don’t you come lie down with me? There’s room enough for two people.”

I looked at her clean, black, straight hair on the lace pillow.

“No, there’s not,” I said.

I smiled slightly. Her eyes were shining.

“Suit yourself,” she said and stretched out.

I opened her door and went out.

When I was halfway down the hall, I heard her door slam. In the morning, she was back to her sullen ways again. There was no more “civilizing the space” around us. But she served only things I knew.