Wintersmith

"I kind of got the feeling," said Tiffany. "And I know where babies come from, Mrs. Ogg."

"I should hope so."

"I know how they get there, too. I live on a farm and I've got a lot of older sisters."

"Ah, right," said Nanny. "Well, I see you're pretty well prepared for life, then. Not much left for me to tell you, I expect. And I've never had a god pay any attention to me, as far as I can recall. Flattered, are you?"

"No!" Tiffany looked into Nanny's smile. "Well, a bit," she admitted.

"And frightened of him?"

"Yes."

"Well, the poor thing hasn't quite got it right yet. He started off so well, with the ice roses and everything, and then he wanted to show you his muscles. Typical. But you shouldn't be frightened of him. He should be frightened of you."

"Why? Because I'm pretending to be the flower woman?"

"Because you're a girl! It's a poor lookout if a bright girl can't wind a boy around her little finger. He's smitten with you. You could make his life a misery with a word. Why, when I was a girl, a young man nearly threw himself off the Lancre Bridge because I spurned his advances!"

"He did? What happened?"

"I unspurned 'em. Well, he looked so pretty standing there, and I thought, that's a good-looking bum on him if ever I saw one." Nanny sat back. "And think about poor ol' Greebo. He'll fight anything. But Esme's little white kitten leaped straight at him, and now the poor dear won't come into this room without peering around the door to check that she's not here. You should see his poor little face when he does, too. It's all wrinkled up. O' course, he could tear her into bits with one claw, but he can't now 'cuz she's fixed his head."

"You're not saying I should try to tear the Wintersmith's face off, are you?"

"No, no, you don't have to be as blunt as that. Give him a little hope. Be kind but firm—"

"He wants to marry me!"

"Good."

"Good?"

"That means he wants to stay friendly. Don't say no, don't say yes. Act like a queen. He's got to learn to show you some respect. What are you doing?"

"Writing this down," said Tiffany, scribbling in her diary.

"You don't need to write it down, love," said Nanny. "It's written down in you somewhere. On a page you haven't read yet, I reckon. Which reminds me, these came when you were out." Nanny fished down among the seat cushions and pulled out a couple of envelopes. "My boy Shawn is the postman, so he knew you'd moved."

Tiffany nearly snatched them out of her hand. Two letters! "Like him, do you? Your young man in the castle?" said Nanny.

"He's a friend who writes to me," said Tiffany haughtily.

"That's right, that's just the look and voice you need for dealing with the Wintersmith!" said Nanny, looking delighted. "Who does he think he is, daring to talk to you? That's the way!"

"I shall read them in my room," said Tiffany.

Nanny nodded. "One of the girls did us a lovely casserole," she said (famously, Nanny never remembered the names of her daughters-in-law). "Yours is in the oven. I'm off to the pub. Early start tomorrow!"

Alone in her room, Tiffany read the first letter.

To the unaided eye, not much happened on the Chalk. It had avoided History. It was a place of small things. Tiffany enjoyed reading about them.

The second letter seemed to be much the same as the first one—until the bit about the ball. He'd gone to a ball! It was at the house of Lord Diver, who was a neighbor! He'd danced with his daughter, who was called Iodine because Lord Diver thought that was a nice name for a girl! They'd had three dances!! And ice cream!! Iodine had shown him her watercolors!!!

How could he sit there and write such things?!!!

Tiffany's eyes moved on, over the everyday news like the bad weather and what had happened to old Aggie's leg, but the words didn't enter her head because it was on fire.

Who did he think he was, dancing with another girl?

You danced with the Wintersmith, her Third Thoughts said.

All right, but what about the watercolors?

The Wintersmith showed you the snowflakes, said her Third Thoughts.

But I was just being polite!

Perhaps he was just being polite, too.

All right, but I know those aunts, Tiffany thought furiously. They've never liked me, because I'm only a farm girl! And Lord Diver's very rich and his daughter is his only child! They're scheming!

How could he sit there and write as if eating ice cream with another girl was a perfectly normal thing to do! That was as bad as—well, something pretty bad, at least!

As for looking at her watercolors…

He's just a boy you happen to write to, said her Third Thoughts.

Yes, well…

Yes, well…what? her Third Thoughts persisted. They were getting on Tiffany's nerves. Your own brains ought to have the decency to be on your side!

Just "Yes, well…" okay? she thought angrily.

You're not being very sensible about this.

Oh, really? Well, I've been sensible all day! I've been sensible for years! I think I'm owed five minutes of being really unreasonably angry, don't you?