A light rapping came from the chamber door leading into the bath room. "My Lord," A lady's voice called quietly.  "It is only I, Madame SacrePomme. I hope that I do not importune your bathing, but I have brought you something. May I enter? I only wish to aid in the easing of your terrible burden."  She tried to keep her voice rather low, as to not allow others who might pass in the corridoors elsewhere to hear what she asked of him.  They knew what she was, a courtesan, a whore, whatever they called her, most did not see a need for her presance.  However, they overlook the fact that a courtier's first and only job is to maintain the happiness and well-being of their lord, and that is what she saught to do with the herbal bath-draft she had prepared for the young master.