“But I don’t understand.”
He ignored me and pointed to my single piece of luggage near the king-size bed. The bed looked Elizabethan, large, big enough for five men, and puffy with a dark comforter and eight…no, nine pillows.
Near the dresser was a ceramic basin on a stand. I pointed to it and asked, “Is that to wash my face?”
“Of course. There’s a pitcher of fresh water next to the stand.”
“And a mirror. Where is one?”
He chuckled at me. “We don’t have any mirrors at Hyde Manor, Mr. Dumar. You’re so adorable when trivial.”
“You don’t?” I whispered, and almost asked why.
“Your bathroom is one floor down. To the right. You mustn’t use it until dawn, young man.”
“I mustn’t?”
He stepped up to me, brushed an extended finger against my jaw, and shook his head. “Of course not. You must
