Enchantment by Orson Scott Card

[SPLOTCH11]

An excerpt from an Orson Scott Card novel, Enchantment. This is the scene where the princess Katerina travels forward in Time with the main character, Ivan. When passing through time one loses everything they possess, including their clothing. Also, Katerina's people believe it is sinful for women to wear the clothes of a man...

"There is always a symmetry in magical things, a balance, so Katerina well knew what to expect when
she stepped off the invisible bridge into the land of Ivan’s birth. Nothing could be carried across the
bridge; only what you already had would be restored to you. So yes, of course, the fire-holed priestly
robe disappeared from Ivan’s body and was replaced by the clothing he had been wearing on that
fateful day when he fought his way to the place of her enchantment and kissed her awake. And yes,
she felt the cool breeze of evening all over her body, for her own clothing had vanished, to be
replaced by nothing, for she had never been in this place and had no vestment here.
The shame of it made her breathless for a moment. True, Ivan was her husband; but since he did not
love her and would never come to her as husband now, she felt no stirring of anticipation to soften the
shock of being exposed before a man. A woman’s nakedness was a precious thing, to be protected
until it was given as a gift to her husband. Or, in this case, to her people, for was it not for their sake
that she had done all these things? Made a vow to this stranger, and crossed this bridge, and now
exposed herself to any eye?
Ivan laughed.
In that moment she hated him, that he would laugh at her.
“Oh, you’re angry?” he said.
She did not like the taunting tone of his voice, and turned her back on him.
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” said Ivan, “I was laughing at fate. The—” He searched for a word. “—
malice of fate.”
No, she was not going to hide from him, as if she had cause for shame. She turned to face him,
though she could not stop herself from covering her breasts with her arms. “I’m naked and you’re
laughing,” she said.
“I’m not laughing now,” he said. “But it’s childish of you to be angry at me. You laughed at my
nakedness.”
“I did not,” she said. Though the moment she said it, she could not remember if she had or not. But
why shouldn’t she? “You’re a man. Men are naked whenever they want.”
“Not in my world,” said Ivan. “In my world, it’s women who are more often naked. But I’m sorry
that I laughed.”
He began unfastening his shirt. What, did he think she’d feel better if he joined her in nakedness?
Or did he think this was a good moment to consummate their marriage vows?
Neither. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, pulled the sleeves over his wrists, and then offered
the thing to her.
“And what would I do with this?”
“Wear it,” he said.
Was he insane? Had he learned nothing? “I’m a Christian woman,” she said. “What you suggest is
too wicked to imagine.”
He rolled his eyes, as if she were an annoying child. “In your world, you were right, and I was
wrong to wear women’s clothing. It was better to be naked.”
“Then why are you offering me this?”
“Because this isn’t your world. And here, it’s no sin for a woman to wear men’s clothing. In fact,
it’s done all the time, and it means nothing. Christian women do it and no one thinks ill of them. A
woman puts on her husband’s shirt and we think it’s charming. That it shows love and intimacy
between them.”
She was horrified to think that Christianity had come to such a pass. “And does the husband put on
his wife’s dress?”
He looked embarrassed. “Well, actually, no. I mean, some do, but we think of that as . . . strange.”
“The world may be insane, but I am not,” she said. She turned her back on him again. “Wherever
we’re going, let’s go. The day is late, and I’ll be cold if I spend the night in the forest.”
“Katerina,” he said. His tone of voice was one she hadn’t heard from him before. Angry. No,
masterful.
“What?” she said.
“Look at me,” he said.
She turned to face him, letting her own anger show. “What is this? Are you claiming the right of a
husband? Or do you forget that even as your wife, I’m the princess of Taina?”
“I’m forgetting nothing. I’m claiming nothing.” But his tone did not become meek again. “You’re the
one forgetting something. This is not your world. There is no Taina here, and no princesses. Only a
naked woman and a man with clothing on. And in this world, people will suspect only two possible
explanations. One is that he has ****d her. The other is that she’s a wh*r*.”
The insult was unbearable. Without even thinking, she slapped him.
“Oh, good,” he said, not even seeming to register the sting of the slap, though his cheek turned red.
“So you’ve decided to make them think I’ve ****d you. What will happen, of course, is that I’ll be
taken to . . . I’ll be taken away and punished. And since you don’t speak the language here, and can’t
prove who you are, and if they do understand you you’ll have these wild stories about being an
enchanted princess, I can bet you’ll be put in a . . . pen for crazy people. And that’s the end of the
story.”
She had no idea what he was talking about. A pen for crazy people? A man taken away for ****?
Either he married the woman or was killed for it by the woman’s family.
She hadn’t really thought of it before—though she should have, she saw that now. His bizarre
behavior when he arrived in Taina wasn’t a private madness of his own. He came from a mad world,
and by crossing the bridge, she had entered into madness. The rules were different here; that’s why he
came to Taina with strange expectations.
But how much did a Christian woman have to compromise just because she was in a strange place?
Her first instinct was: Compromise nothing. God’s law is not changed, just because a woman travels
from one place to another. It is still a shame for a woman to be naked, still a worse shame for her to
put a man’s clothing upon her.
And yet . . . if he told the truth, what then? She was not a wh*r*; should she behave in a way that
made people think that she was? That was a kind of lying, wasn’t it? And he had not ****d her—
indeed, he could not **** her, for the vows had been said, and it was his right to use her body as he
saw fit. So he was the opposite of a rapist, he was a kind husband who had not forced his reluctant
wife, and he even now respected her decency by not eyeing her naked body even though it was on
plain display for him. Instead, he was offering her a way to cover herself.
“Adam and Eve covered themselves with leaves,” said Ivan.
“That would keep us warm for a night,” she said. “But we couldn’t walk far.”
“They covered themselves to hide their nakedness,” said Ivan. “They covered themselves with
whatever they had available. Here is a piece of cloth with sleeves for your arms and a way to fasten
it closed across your body. It may once have been used as clothing by another person, but that person
renounces it. It is not his clothing. It is not clothing at all. Here . . . it’s garbage.” He dropped the shirt
on the ground. “Look!” he said. “A piece of cloth! I wonder what it could be? Look, Katerina, maybe
you could use it as a kind of gown.”
Was he mocking her with this childish pretense? “Do you think I’m so stupid as to be deceived?”
His face flashed again with anger, but he controlled it, kept his voice calm and measured. “Listen,
Katerina. To me, the idea of walking naked into your village was the most shameful, humiliating thing
I could imagine. You could not have found a better way of debasing me, in my own eyes. But you told
me that this is how it had to be done, in your world, and I obeyed, no matter how hard it was for me. I
trusted you.”
“This is how the devil talks,” she said coldly. “I didn’t tell you that you couldn’t wear my hoose ‘in
my world,’ I said a decent man wouldn’t even try to wear a hoose at all!”
“In your world,” he said again, insisting, his voice angrier. “In my world, a decent man would not
let his wife—no, any woman that he respected—stand naked before others. It would be the most
shameful thing you could do to me—again. Again, because you’re always right and nobody else
knows anything, again you are determined to shame me.”
The vehemence of his tone shook her. “Do you, as my husband, command me to defile myself by
wearing this shirt?”
He seemed to despair at this. “In my world a man doesn’t command his wife, he persuades her. If
he can.”
“Then why are you raising your voice to me, if not to command?”
“I obeyed you, when you told me what to do in your world,” he said. His voice was soft now, but
no less intense.
“Of course you did. I’m the princess of Taina.”
“In my world, princesses can stamp their pretty little feet and issue commands to their heart’s
content, but the only people who obey them are their paid servants. Common people like me pay no
attention at all.”
These words frightened her even more than his immoral claims about women wearing men’s
clothing. “Is the world turned upside down, then?”
“At least in our world we don’t have witches threatening to take over a kingdom unless the
princess marries a complete stranger who fights a bear and jumps a moat and kisses her awake.”
She didn’t understand how a world could even exist where people had no respect for authority,
where women wore men’s clothing and husbands did not command their wives. And she was cold.
The sun was behind the trees now, and in the shade the breeze began to have teeth to it.
She bent over and picked up the shirt. She tried not to weep, but could not contain the tears of
shame that came to her eyes. She put it on like a hoose. The sleeves hung longer than her arms. She
did not know how to fasten the big heavy buttons, and couldn’t keep the sleeves from falling over her
fingers as she tried.
He came to her then and buttoned the shirt, his hands awkward between her breasts, at her belly;
but he was gentle, and he seemed genuinely sorry for her tears. He tried once to wipe them away with
his hand, but by reflex she shied away from him. He withdrew his hand at once, as if she had slapped
him again.
“It’s all right,” she said. “You can touch me. It’s your right.”
“It’s my right,” he said, “to touch a woman who loves me and trusts me and gives herself to me
freely, and not just because of some ancient witch’s curse or her duty to her country.”
She could not help thinking: This is not the way Dimitri would have acted, if he were my husband.
She honored Ivan for the difference.
He fastened the last button, his hands brushing against her groin, but only incidentally, without any
intimate intent; but that very detachment on his part, that lack of interest, made his touch all the more
disturbing. She shuddered.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’ve never dressed a woman before.”