My ears are deaf to her warning. I am certain all men are like that, and I would kill them all gladly.
But she presses further, to be sure I fully understand. “He will ask for sacrifices, but it is not your role to question. Only to serve with love and obedience.” A whisper of emotion crosses her face, a memory of some pain I can only guess at. “That is the nature of our service,” she says. “Unquestioning faith. Can you do that?”
"What if I say no?”
“Then you will be taken far from here and given to a kind, gentle man in need of a wife.”
I weigh the choice that is no choice at all. To be removed from the world of men and trained to kill them, or to be handed to one like a sheep. “If you think I am fit to serve, Reverend Mother, I will do so gladly.”
She smiles and leans back in her chair. “Oh, you are fit to serve. You have already passed the first test.”
Something about her smile makes me uneasy. “I have?”
The abbess nods to the shattered goblet on the floor. “Your wine was laced with poison. enough that a sip would kill a man twice your size. You experienced slight discomfort, nothing more.”
I am shocked into silence as she so easily confesses to poisoning me, and I remember the warm, dizzy feeling I had earlier.
“Now come.” The abbess stands, walks over to the door, and opens it. “Annith will get you settled. welcome to the convent.”
Chapter Three
When I step out of the reverend mother’s office, a girl just slightly younger than I am is waiting. Just like the abbess, she is strikingly fair, with eyes the color of the shifting sea and wisps of pale hair escaping from her veil. Next to her I feel shabby and tattered, as if my very presence is a sacrilege in a convent full of beauty. But the girl smiles at me and tucks my arm through hers as if we have been friends since birth. “I am Annith,” she says. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
As much as I want to go with her, as much as I want to embrace this new life set before me, I hesitate. There is something I need to understand first. "Wait.”
Annith tilts her head to the side. "What?”
“If I hadn’t passed the test, would she have let me die of poison?” A chill scuttles across my shoulders at how close I came to meeting Death face to face.
Annith’s face clears in understanding. “But no! The abbess would have fetched a bezoar stone to neutralize the poison or called for a tincture of amaranth to revive you. Now come.” She tugs gently at my arm, and she is so certain and reassuring that it chases away my last remaining doubt.
Our footsteps echo faintly off the stone walls as Annith leads me down a corridor. Doors line the walls on either side of us, and I wonder what secrets these rooms hold and how soon I will be allowed to learn them.
Annith stops when we reach a long chamber with clean, white walls and a row of beds. Fresh air pours in from the window and I hear the sound of waves casting themselves upon the rocky shore beyond. A nun in a midnight blue habit works at a table with a mortar and pestle. At our arrival, she carefully puts her task aside before turning to greet us.
She is of middle years, and her black wimple does not flatter her olive skin. It does, however, match the faint mustache on her upper lip. I am filled with relief that she is not beautiful like the others. At least I will not be the ugliest one here.
“The reverend mother sends a new patient?” The note of eagerness in the nun’s voice strikes me as unseemly.
“Yes, Sister Serafina,” Annith says. “She has had a bad beating, with many bruises. Possible broken ribs and injuries to her internal organs.”
I stare at Annith with new respect. How has she learned all this? Did she listen at the door? Looking at her fresh, delicate face, I find it hard to imagine her doing anything so deceitful.
The nun wipes her hands on a linen cloth and goes to a plain wooden cupboard to retrieve a glass flask. It is not as elegant or ornate as the crystal goblet, but it is every bit as fragile. even so, she thrusts it into my hands and motions me to a wooden screen in the corner of the room. "Evacuate into that, if you please.”
I stare stupidly at the flask. The nun looks at Annith. "Was her hearing affected, do you think?”
“No, Sister.” Annith’s face is solemn, the picture of dutiful respect, and yet I am sure I can sense a faint spark of humor.
Sister Serafina turns back to me. “Piss,” she says, a little loudly in case Annith is wrong about my hearing. “I need you to piss into the flask so I can tell if you have any internal injuries.”
Mortification fills me at this request, but Annith gives me an encouraging nudge. I hurry over to the privacy of the screen and find a chamber pot. I lift my skirts, position myself, and pray I will hit the flask.
The nun speaks again. Her voice is low, but my hearing is sharp from so many years spent listening for my father’s moods.
“Did the reverend mother test her?”