The serving maid was laden down with gold-encrusted plates and goblets, dressed in well-mended rags—in spite of these misfortunes, she was surely the most beautiful girl in Creation.
“Let me get those for you,” Panis Rahl purred, taking the majority of the dishes from her arms and setting them on a convenient inlaid sidetable.
“My Lord,” she protested, “I must—“
Panis smiled at her, taking the last dishes away and tilting her chin upward between his fingers. He looked up significantly. “Mistletoe,” he offered, by way of salve for her conscience. Not that she need worry about displeasing the head cook more than the Lord Rahl.
“My Lord,” she gasped. Without further ado, he took her in his arms and kissed her. She was as delectable as he had imagined.
Unfortunately, just as Panis was thinking of dragging the girl to the nearest convenient side chamber, the mistletoe, precariously attached, drooped down and caught itself in Panis’s hair.
He tried to shake it off, but the girl leaned closer to him, and he leaned back at the same moment, so that the girl’s chest pressed against him, but the mistletoe scraped a path through his hair and jabbed itself into his eye.
“Ow!” bellowed Panis. The girl ran away in fright, quite forgetting her dishes—
Later, when Zedd had seen to his eye, Panis said wrathfully, “Henceforth, mistletoe will be banned from D’Hara! Never, never again—“
Zedd was only relieved that Panis’s hurt pride hadn’t made him ban Creatormas. Mistletoe was really only a small sacrifice—comparatively speaking.