“Ultimately nothing. Cook told her to shut her gob and gave her five more chickens to pluck. That settled her downrealfast. But I can’t stand here all day. I need to prep that bath you’re making me give,remember?”
“Damn it.” I glance toward our residence, where my satchel is sitting in my rooms with all of my writing supplies. “I need to grab something first. Meet you there.”
I whirl around, tossing my gloves on the ground, and jog toward the building entrance. Once inside, I slow to a rapid walk, not wanting to draw attention.
The Learning Annex is closer and therefore the default choice. I navigate to the empty classroom, my heart lashing against my ribs.
“Shit,” I hiss to nobody three minutes later. I’m pawing through Maida’s lectern cabinet like a maniac.
There’s a stack of spare paper, a box of chalk, some textbooks, and a novel she must be reading. Shealwayskeeps an extra pen here, but it’s nowhere to be found! I turn and dart back in the direction I came.
My feet are slapping the slate steps by the time I reach the fourth floor, but the altitude isn’t affecting me at all today. I’m not even short of breath when I reach my rooms. Dashing to my desk, I swipe the pen case and two sheets of paper before starting the trek back down.
The walk across the courtyard is made rapidly and with my hood up. My hand mindlessly pats my cloak, confirming and reconfirming the items are safe inside my interior pocket.
Once inside the bathhouse, a wall of humidity hits me so intensely I begin to sweat. My lungs constrict in the thick heat, the tip of my nose tingling with the stench of too many fragrances in one place.
The smothering sensations climb to my eyeballs, and I unfasten my cloak. It isn’t long before footsteps echo off the stone tiles, headed my way.
Please, for the love of everything holy, don’t be a sister.This isn’t exactly the low-traffic hour of 6:00 I’d been counting on after my conversation with Kiera yesterday.
Thankfully, it’s only her. “Tiss,” she hisses, waving me over and turning on her heel.
I’m all hammering heart and jangled nerves following her through the familiar hallways. Every footfall on the stone tile seems to crash in my ears. Gods help me, I resort to my controlled breathing.Damned if it doesn’t help, though.
“Wait in here,” she whispers, depositing me into an immaculate changing room. She turns to leave again, stopping with her fingers on the doorknob. “Give me a few moments. I’ll fetch you when it’s safe.”
She slips out and shuts the door before I can reply.
Sitting at the vanity, I lower my hood and peek into the polished mirror. I flinch at the sight of myself. “Well, I look a fright.”
A wide-tooth, silver and bone comb sits on the vanity top. I run it through my unruly locks simply to occupy my trembling hands. The door flies open with a racket that sends the comb clattering.
“Let’s go,” says Kiera. “She’s just down the hall.” Glancing furtively in both directions, she opens the door wider for me.
Lydia looks at me strangely when I enter the bathing room.
Still fully dressed, she’s perched on the edge of a bathtub filled with sweetly scented water and mounds of bubbles. The fragrance doesn’t quite cover the stench of sulfur wafting from her.
Excitement ripples through me along with a tinge of disbelief at what I’m about to do. Given what I am, I suppose it’s one thing to break the prioress’s misconduct rules. Butthisis an entirely new type of breach.
“You don’t have long.” Kiera looks between us. “She needs to actually bathe at some point, and her escort is coming to collect her in an hour. I’ll be back in ten minutes. You have until then.” She leaves us alone together, the door closing softly behind her.
I reach into my cloak’s interior pocket, producing the paper and fountain pen in its case. When Lydia sees them, she takes a breath and massages her right hand.
Strange. “I’m sorry to pounce on you like this. I didn’t think I’d have the opportunity so soon, but I need to know some things. It’s… somewhat urgent.”
Nodding, she holds out her hands for the writing implements.
A small table by the tub is filled with hygiene items. She clears a space and bends over, using it to write. I step closer to peer at the paper:
Talked to Elodie recently?
“Oh, define recently. I’ve been trying specificallynotto talk to her since last night. It’s an entire debacle.” I give a dismissive wave.
Pen in hand, Lydia watches me expectantly.
“I hope this isn’t terribly rude, but why did Kerrigan attack you? And why did they sew your mouth?”
