On one of the last afternoons she probably had left with her family, Valentina suggested a walk to her sister. "Let's go to the old pear tree," she said, "like we used to."

  Adeline was beaming. She had been waiting patiently all week to have her big sister to herself. She had patiently kept all her burning questions to herself. Valentina – and Vyxara in particular –did notice that. The two sisters set off past the familiar fields of their childhood.

  The narrow path meandered through tall grass that waved in the summer wind. In the distance, you could see the sheep of the hill farmers grazing, small white dots against the lush green of the hills.

  "Do you remember how we used to weave summer wreaths here?" asked Adeline, bending down to pick a cornflower.

  "Of course." Valentina smiled. "Mother always scolded us for coming home with scratched legs and grass stains on our clothes."

  "By all the tyrants in hell, how boring that must have been," commented Vyxara. "Years and years of weaving wreaths, washing clothes, milking cows and listening to that moronic ember babble every Sunday. How did you put up with it? I can hardly stand the boredom after just one week." Valentina couldn't help but grin at Vyxara's outburst.

  They reached the old pear tree, which towered over the fields like a gnarled sentinel. Its overhanging branches had served as a place for them to climb when they were children. Valentina could still see the worn places in the bark where they had always climbed up.

  They sat down in the shade of the tree. They were silent for a while, watching the clouds drifting across the summer sky.

  "Please tell me Valentina, what's it really like in Bridgewater?" Adeline finally asked. "In your letters, you always sound so... cautious."

  Valentina chose her words carefully. "It's just a different world Adeline."

  "A better one?"

  "A different one," Valentina repeated firmly. "With its own problems."

  Adeline plucked thoughtfully at a blade of grass. "Is there... I mean... have you met anyone?"

  Valentina felt herself blush slightly. "What exactly do you mean?"

  Her sister was now blushing too, but took heart. "Well... are you still... I mean..." She took a deep breath. "Are you still a virgin?"

  "Oh, that will be interesting," Vyxara said happily. "Let's see how honest you are with your little sister."

  Valentina sighed inwardly. She had suspected that this conversation would come at some point. "No," she said simply. "I'm not anymore."

  Adeline's eyes grew wide. "Really? With whom? How was it? Was it romantic? Was it..." She fell silent, obviously unsure how much she was allowed to ask.

  "If I tell you, you have to promise me that it will stay between us," Valentina said seriously. "Mother and father mustn't find out."

  Adeline nodded solemnly. "I swear by the flame of the Martyr."

  "How fitting," Vyxara scoffed.

  "It was with Crispin," Valentina said quietly. "My friend from university, the one I told you about."

  "Oh!" Adeline slid closer. "Are you going to get married?"

  Valentina shook her head. "No. I like him a lot, but... I don't love him. Not in that way."

  "But..." Adeline frowned in confusion. "But the church says..."

  "The church says a lot of things," Valentina interrupted her gently. "But love and... being close in a physical way are not always the same thing. Maybe sometimes they can belong together, but they don't have to."

  Adeline chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Was it... did it hurt?"

  "A little at first," Valentina admitted. "But Crispin was very gentle and careful. He went to great lengths to make me feel comfortable."

  "Oh yes, good Crispin," Vyxara giggled. "So eager and so... quick to finish."

  "But what if you get pregnant?" Adeline asked worriedly. "Then what?"

  "There are ways to prevent that," Valentina explained. "A herbwife in Bridgewater, Mara, knows all about it. She taught me which herbal brew to use."

  "Really?" Adeline leaned forward with interest. "I always thought something like that was a sin?"

  "The Church sees many things as sinful," Valentina said carefully. "But the Martyr was a genius and a brilliant Essence Weaver and lived at a time when people weren't so virtuous. I hardly think he really cares about such things."

  "How right you are," Vyxara said seriously.

  They observed a bee buzzing lazily from flower to flower.

  "Val?" said Adeline suddenly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I have a confession to make."

  "Like what?"

  Adeline turned bright red. "Sometimes... sometimes I go into the high meadows. Where no one can see me. And then..." She broke off.

  "Are you touching yourself?" Valentina asked gently.

  Her sister nodded without looking at her.

  "That's completely normal," Valentina said firmly. "I did it too when I was your age. Still do sometimes."

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  "'Sometimes' she says," Vyxara giggled.

  "Really?" Adeline looked up. "But the Ember says..."

  "What happens between our legs is none of the Ember's business," Valentina interrupted her. "Our bodies belong to us. There's nothing wrong with getting to know them."

  "How wise you have become," Vyxara commented with amusement. "Almost as if you've gained some experience in that regard."

  Adeline suddenly grinned mischievously. "I know you used to do it too, by the way. We used to sleep in the same bed."

  Now it was Valentina's turn to blush. "That was a long time ago!"

  "Not that long," Adeline teased. Then she became serious again. "But sometimes... sometimes I feel so constricted here. Like there's no future except getting married and having children. When I thought I had to marry Brentwood..." Her voice trembled and broke off.

  Valentina put an arm around her sister's shoulders. "There are always opportunities, Adeline. Look at me – who would have thought a farm girl from Palewood would go to university?"

  "But you can see Essence," Adeline said with a sigh. "You have a special gift. I'm... normal."

  "That's not important," said Valentina. "And besides – who says you don't have special talents? You're clever, Adeline."

  A breeze rustled the leaves of the pear tree. In the distance, the horizon slowly began to turn red.

  "Val?" Adeline asked hesitantly. "If you're a powerful Essence Weaver one day... Could I maybe live with you in the city then?"

  Valentina hugged her sister. "Perhaps. But that's a long time away. I have to finish my studies first."

  "But you would take me with you?"

  "If it's possible – yes," Valentina said cautiously. "But promise not to give everything up in a hurry. Life takes strange paths sometimes."

  "Very diplomatic of you," Vyxara remarked. "You know very well that you might have completely different plans by then. You're getting better and better."

  "We should go back," Valentina finally said. "Mother will be wondering where we are."

  Adeline nodded, but made no move to get up. "Just a moment," she asked. "It's so peaceful here. Tell me something else about Bridgewater," Adeline asked, "about the big houses and the nobles and rich people."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything," said Adeline eagerly. "How people dress, how they speak, how they live."

  Valentina smiled and began to talk. Of the splendid robes of the nobility, of the complicated rules of etiquette, of the lavish parties. She wisely left out the darker aspects of city life – and the intrigues, dangers and moral compromises of her last year at university.

  "How thoughtful," mocked Vyxara. "You're painting her a fairytale world of silk and sweets. Reality will catch up with her soon enough."

  "Not if I can help it," Valentina thought back.

  The sky was already red when they finally made their way home. Adeline hooked up with her sister.

  "Thank you," she said quietly. "For telling me. And for listening. And don't worry, I won't tell on you."

  Valentina squeezed her hand lovingly.

  They walked the familiar path back to the courtyard, where they already saw the first lights in the windows. The smell of dinner was in the air – their mother had probably cooked one of her wonderful stews.

  ~

  The sound of horses' hooves in the yard made them all sit up and take notice. Valentina, who was helping Thomas not to spill his soup, looked up. A messenger of the royal postal service in his characteristic blue robe rode into the courtyard. The coat of arms of the royal postal service was emblazoned on his chest, and bulging post bags dangled from his saddle.

  "A messenger!" Colm shouted excitedly and jumped up. "Maybe he's bringing news of Roric!"

  "Stay seated," her mother admonished him. "Let your father have a look."

  Aldwin rose gracefully and went to the door. The messenger had already descended and pulled a sealed letter out of his pocket.

  "I'm looking for Valentina of Palewood," he said formally.

  "My daughter," Aldwin replied. "Come here, Valentina."

  Valentina stepped outside with a pounding heart. The letter in the messenger's hand bore the seal of the House of Greystone – the crescent moon with the red eyes.

  "Ah, your new patron is in touch," Vyxara purred. "I'm sure he can't wait to welcome you into his halls. Or his bed."

  The messenger handed her the letter with a small bow. "From his grace, the Duke of Duskenshire," he announced.

  Valentina broke the seal. The handwriting was elegantly curved, the words carefully chosen:

  "Dearest Valentina,

  I hope this letter reaches you safe and sound in Palewood. The preparations for your stay in Dusktown have been made. In two days, a carriage will pick you up and bring you to us. I look forward to welcoming you personally and showing you the many wonders of our residence, our hospital and our city. As you know, your many talents have impressed me greatly and I am convinced that you will blossom here.

  Be assured of my sincere affection,

  Cosimo Greystone, Duke of Duskenshire"

  "'Blossom'," Vyxara giggled. "How poetically he expresses himself. You could almost forget what he really has in mind for you."

  "What's he writing?" her mother asked anxiously from the doorway.

  "He's sending a wagon in two days," Valentina said, folding up the letter. "To take me to Dusktown."

  The messenger bowed again. "If you have an answer, My Lady, I will ride back to Dusktown in the morning."

  "No, thank you," said Valentina politely. "I will arrive soon enough."

  When the messenger had ridden away, everyone gathered around the kitchen table. The letter lay between them like a strange object.

  "'My Lady'," little Mabel murmured in awe. "He called you 'My Lady'!"

  "That doesn't mean anything," Valentina rebutted. "He was just trying to be polite."

  "But the Duke himself has written to you!" said Adeline excitedly. "With his own seal! And he's sending a carriage!"

  "I'm worried," her mother said quietly. "A court surely is a dangerous place. Especially for young girls."

  "I'm not a young girl anymore, I can take care of myself, mother," Valentina assured her.

  "That's what they all think," sighed Mabel.

  "How touchingly worried," Vyxara mocked. "If only she knew what her good daughter has been up to..."

  "It's a great honor," her father said slowly. "And a great opportunity. The Duke could promote Valentina."

  "Or harm her," muttered her mother.

  "What do we need to pack?" asked little Mabel with a practical mind. "Do you need clothes? Food for the journey?"

  "The carriage won't take that long to get to Dusktown," said Valentina. "And I still have my things from Bridgewater."

  "But you need some decent clothes!" protested her mother. "You can't show up at court in your old clothes."

  "I'm sure the Duke will make sure she's dressed appropriately," her father said dryly.

  Her mother gave him a sharp look. "That's exactly what worries me."

  "Well, if you ask me," Vyxara giggled. "I think that the good Duke is more concerned about how he can get you undressed as quickly as possible."

  "Val!" whined Thomas, stretching his arms out towards her. "Don't go!"

  "I have to go, little man," she said gently and took him on her lap. "But I'll be back, I promise."

  "When?" he asked with a trembling lower lip.

  "Soon," she lied softly. She knew that it would probably be several months before she saw her family again.

  The next few hours passed with planning and preparations. Her mother insisted that she at least take new underdresses and a pair of home-knitted stockings. Little Mabel promised to look after Thomas and Adeline helped her pack her few belongings.

  Later, as she lay in her bed listening to her sleeping sisters breathing, Valentina couldn't fall asleep. The excitement tingled in her stomach.

  "Nervous, little Weaver?" asked Vyxara gently.

  "A little," Valentina admitted. "It will probably be very different from Bridgewater."

  "Of course it will," purred the demon. "But you're not the same as you were when you came to Bridgewater. You've become stronger. Smarter. More experienced. And ready for… new experiences."

  "What will await me in Dusktown?" she asked quietly.

  "Power," Vyxara replied. "Possibilities. And yes, definitely some dangers too. But isn't that exactly what you want? The chance to become more than just a farm girl from Palewood?"

  Valentina touched the duke's silver brooch, which lay under her pillow.

  Another new world. The thought was frightening and exciting in equal measure.