Another one of my favorite McKillip books.
This one is probably one of the closest to a traditional fairy tale: the daughter of a queen is turned into a voiceless pot-scrubber in a castle kitchen, and doesn't even remember who she is. She dreams at night in the water of the cauldron she uses to wash pots before she goes into dreamless sleep. And, there's something beautiful about her being named Saro.
This book is a bit shorter than what I usually read, but definitely complete. It's also the only book by her I know of that has a prologue. There is a flock of food flying around in the kitchen: don't read it when you're hungry.
I like it.
It's also less ambiguous than some other books I could name (The Sorceress and the Cygnet, Ombria in Shadow). I think even my sister might be satisfied by this one, if she could bring herself to read another of McKillip's books ever again.
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