Faey sits alone on one of the leather couches in the common room, anxiously watching the fireplace crackle. A stack of sealed letters sits in her lap as she picks at the corners of brass buttons sunk in the tufting. She has never had the pleasure of being requested by anyone of any sort of power, let alone the queen. She looks at the clock on the black oak mantle, then back to the fireplace—forgetting the time as soon as she looks away.

  There is a sharp knock at the door, quickly quieting the room. The coven look to Eue-Lysae, who languidly stands up from her chair.

  Eue-Lysae looks at the clock on the mantle as the bell of the grandfather clock near the kitchen chimes. Noon—a Dornytter, always on time; he’s probably been there waiting for a few minutes—five. Dyder was usually about ten minutes early.

  Feay’s eyes quickly flick to Eue-Lysae, following her as she walks to the door; she must be cold. Running her hand down the brown sleeve of her knit wool sweater, she slides it back at the cuff, checking the two layers of black cotton shirts below it. The cold is such a waste when snow has yet to fall; all the frigid weather—none of the beauty. Hopefully, it will snow soon. The skirt of Eue-Lysae’s dress disappears behind the back of the couch. How has she not caught a cold? a thin silk dress, even if it is ‘The Gown of Our Pale Lady,’ she must be freezing. She should ask if it's enchanted, but even with such a deep v-cut in the collar, any sort of enchantment must do very little.

  The doorknob is cold as Eue-Lysae turns it; hoping it isn’t Georges on the other side, she pulls the door open.

  “Hello, Osmund.” She steps into the hall, forcing him away from the doorway. You can ask politely for him to move; I really don’t mind if he comes in; it’s cold outside, let him warm himself by the fire. Her face scrunches, getting a giggle from Luhnylla. “Gekaryna vela’Herst sent you to get ?ppolonia?”

  “Yes. I have a carriage waiting out in front of the library. She let me use the heated one.” He makes sure not to break eye contact with Eue-Lysae, no matter how disquieted the glare from her blue eyes makes him.

  “How long have you been waiting there?” Eue-Lysae asks.

  “Right outside the door? or in the carriage?”

  “How about both?”

  He taps his foot, thinking. He had stayed in the carriage for longer than he had hoped, but it is not often that he gets to enjoy the pleasures of comfortable travel, even if it's such a brief ride. “I was reading in the carriage for about ten minutes, and I’ve been at the door for maybe three.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Eue-Lysae nods. “I’ll get ?ppolonia.”

  She opens the door and quickly slips back inside. What was he doing for those three minutes? just standing there? trying to listen? trying to look through the keyhole. Enough, he’s not a pervert; he’s just doing his job. Luhnylla is far too lenient. And you're far too distrusting. This is Dyder’s brother; how about you spare him some of that trust? She ignores her.

  Stopping between Faey and the fire, Eue-Lysae’s presence quickly snaps the young priestess out of her trance.

  “Yes, Mother?” She looks at the clock—noon. Taking the letters from her lap, she stands quickly and turns to the door. Eue-Lysae’s hand on her shoulder stops her.

  “I want to talk to you first.” Eue-Lysae leads her out of the common room and into the kitchen. She feels the warmth of the fireplace fade as they enter the dark and quiet room. You said I was far too lenient; this applies to you as well... you can wear a sweater or a coat if you want—I don’t want you to get a cold. I tell you this every time it’s chilly out: Klerwye would wear sweaters... and shoes... so would everyone before her. Enough, please; I am your vessel, and I must wear your gown. I can’t tell if you are so strict with the rule because you are prudent or a cruel temptress; it depends on the man... doesn’t it? She ignores the teasing, knowing Luhnylla means no harm with the banter. She leans in close, whispering into Faey’s ear, not wanting the others to hear. “Do not read those letters. I do not know what Gekaryna vela’Herst wants with them, but this shouldn’t be your concern.”

  “But why can’t I read them? You always tell me not to—but never why. What if something is important?” Faey speaks softly, matching Eue-Lysae’s volume.

  “It won’t be. If it were something important, he would send someone to the college with a message. He’s just going to try to bribe you to come back to him.” Eue-Lysae pauses. “Has your sister received any letters from your uncle?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” It’s been about two months since I went to visit Eloannah at the bar she works at, and she didn’t mention Mar?l then; it’s doubtful that anything has changed since then.

  “Why would he write only to you if it were something important?” Just tell her; she’s old enough to know. “Do not let Gekaryna vela’Herst tell you any of the contents of the letters; leave the room when she’s reading them. Understood?”

  “Yes, I understand.” The constant nagging from Eue-Lysae about not reading the letters only makes her want to read them more. What could be so concerning about them? how could she know? she hasn’t read them.

  “Good. I shall see you later tonight then.” She escorts Faey to the door, opening it, and the two step out into the hallway, where Osmund is looking out the window.

  “I want her back before 22:00—tell Gekaryna vela’Herst this.” He was probably watching the birds while he was waiting earlier too. “I also want you to tell her that ?ppolonia is not to read those letters or tell her about the contents.”

  Osmund nods. “Understood, High Priestess.”

  “Excellent.”

  She watches the two quietly disappear down the hallway before returning to her chair in the common room.