‘I pray God and Martyrs this letter finds you well. Know that I am quite furious with you, this being my fifth missive and you not having written once in the months you’ve been away. But in a moment of weakness, I found myself missing you again, and Mama said I should write to let you know. So here it is.
‘I am very well, but still wishing you were here. Life in Lorson is dreadfully dull without your shameful behaviour to divert attentions from my own misconduct. In a desperate attempt to prove to Papa I am the God-fearing daughter he tried to raise, I am serving in the chapel as a candlemaid these days. You will be pleased to learn Père Louis is just as insufferable as ever – the alderman’s daughter is to be married in spring, and he has insisted we practise every week until the blessed day. I am putting serious consideration into poisoning his sacramental wine. Do you have any advice on the herbs to use?
‘In other news, I am being pursued in matters amorous by the mason’s boy, Philippe. His enthusiasm is laudable, but I have decided to never wed. Instead, I think I shall become an adventuress, wandering the lands in search of fame and fortune and a conquest more interesting than a tradesman’s son. Perhaps I shall drop in on your little monastery sometime and box you about your ears for not having the common decency to answer your beloved sister’s letters.
‘Mama misses you too, most dearly. She says she hopes you are eating well and not getting up to foolishness. I asked if she had anything else to say, but she is crying now, so make of that what you will.
‘I trust you are enjoying yourself, traipsing about the countryside chasing bugaboos. Please do me the distinct favour of not getting yourself killed. I’d never hear the end of it.
‘And for Godsakes, write your bloody mother.
‘Your loving sister,
‘Celene
‘“My little hellion …” I whispered.
‘My eyes were burning as I crushed my baby sister’s letter to my chest. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been missing her, and ma famille back in Lorson. I pictured Celene writing at the kitchen table, Mama working at the stove, and for a moment, their absence was so keen, I feared I’d cut myself on it. The news that my old flame was betrothed was also a rock in my belly. A part of me knew Ilsa must hate me after what I did to her, and anyway, silversaints could take no wives. Still, I felt a soft sadness that my old world seemed to be coming along just fine without me.
‘“Fairdawn, good Initiate,” came a voice.
‘I looked up from Celene’s letter and saw her framed in the doorway. The dim daysdeath light seemed a halo about her head, and her coal-black eyes were as unreadable as ever. But looking into her face, I felt the sorrow on my heart lift.
‘“My name is Sisternovice Astrid. Let’s get you fed and watered, shall we?”
‘She bustled into the room with a tray of soup, sat by the bed. “Open wide!”
‘“I—”
‘My protest was silenced as she shoved a loaded spoon into my gob. She waited ’til I chewed, then shovelled in more. She was acting out of character, and I wondered if she might be upset about Aoife’s death, until I saw Sister Esmeé trundle past outside, weeping loudly. Once the big woman was out of earshot, Astrid whispered, furious.
‘“I know I said recklessness is a more admirable quality than foolishness. But fighting three coldbloods armed only with a fucking shovel might be taking things a touch far?”
‘“Good to see you too, Majesty.”
‘“Oh, pack that schoolboy smile a lunch and send it walking,” she scowled, stuffing another spoonful into my mouth. “It holds no weight with me, Gabriel de León.”
‘“You work in the Infirmary?”
‘Astrid scoffed. “Bedpans and these hands? I think not.”
‘“Then why are you here?”
‘“The sister who assists Esmeé was close to Aoife. Béatrice is out of sorts after the … incident.” Astrid shrugged. “I volunteered to take her duties today.”
‘“Let me guess. For a favour?”
‘“I certainly didn’t do it out of the generosity of my black and shrivelled heart.”
‘Something in Astrid’s voice told me she might be lying about that, but I didn’t press. “All well and good, but you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
‘The sisternovice pursed her lips, set the meal aside.
‘“I am displeased. You’ve broken your word to me, Initiate.”
‘“I would nev—”
‘“It’s not entirely your fault,” she said, raising a hand against my protest. “But I hear you’ll be unable to train Chloe in her bladework next week, given you’ll be off murdering an ancien of the Blood Voss with a garden spade or suchlike.”
‘“I … fear it will be a touch more difficult than that.”
‘“As you like it.” She smoothed back a lock of long, dark hair. “But I wished to ensure our arrangement is still in place. I will continue the search for secrets of your heritage in the Library while you are gone. And you will continue to train good Chloe upon your return.”
‘I looked into her eyes. And though her stare was as unfathomable as ever, I couldn’t help but note the weight she’d placed on that final word. I realized Astrid was afeared for me. After Aoife’s murder, the attack in the stables, perhaps it had been brought home to her just how dangerous the waters I swam in truly were. And I wondered, then, if Astrid Rennier might be saying something without actually speaking it.
‘“I’ll return,” I nodded. “I’m a man of my word, Majesty.”
‘“Not quite a man yet.” She mustered a small smile. “Sixteen next week, is it not?”
‘Astrid handed me a sheaf of rough paper, and unfolding it, I felt my heart skip three beats. It was a page from her sketchblock, but it might well have been a mirror. Her artistry was flawless as always, but instead of Justice or Chloe, this time Astrid had drawn me.
‘Staring down at that boy’s face, I could see how much he’d changed since he arrived in San Michon. Long, dark hair. Sharp jaw. Grey eyes. Beside me, she’d drawn a lion, fierce and proud, eyes the same shape as my own. It was as if Astrid had seen beneath the lad I was, and conjured the lines of the man I’d become. Meeting her stare, I found myself smiling again. This girl was a sisternovice of the Silver Order. She owned nothing save the cloth on her back. And still, she’d found a way to give gift to me.
‘“Happy saintsday, Initiate.”
‘“… Merci for your gift, Sisternovice.”
‘She blinked. “You seem … unimpressed?”
‘I looked at Celene’s letter on the sheet beside me. “It’s a wondrous gift, no doubt. I’m just wondering if I’m brave enough to beg another.”
‘“Have you heard the phrase ‘pushing one’s luck’？”
‘“I’ve had word from my baby sister. She’s been writing me for months, and I haven’t really known what to say. But her letter has put me in mind of my mama. I’m wondering if I shouldn’t write to her about my father. My true father, I mean.” I shook my head. “But truth told, I’m not certain I want anyone else in San Michon reading her reply. Many folk in this monastery owe you favour. Do you think you might get word passed to her in secret?”