Mistress Nina shoves me firmly behind her. “Enough!” she shouts, her voice cracking.
A whistle sounds at the far end of the street. Booted feet thunder closer. I catch a glimpse of red coats—the garrison—before she slams the door shut.
“Lord Godfrey has sent his men,” she says. “Thank goodness someone here has not lost their mind.”
We peer around the closed blinds, watching the crowd scatter before the soldiers.
Quiet returns.
Footsteps approach and a knock sounds on the door.
“It’s all right,” Mistress Nina says to me, opening the door to a red-coated officer.
“Are you well?” he asks.
“Aye, Captain Anthony, we are,” she replies.
“And the lass?”
“She is fine. Shaken. Percy threw a pig’s bladder full of blood at her! That crusty old goat!”
I catch a small smile on Master Anthony’s face at the last part before he quickly hides it. “We’ve rounded up the troublemakers,” he says gruffly. “They’ll spend the night in a cold cell. Happen it will clear their heads. But I’ll keep extra patrols on the street tonight.”
“Thank you,” she says.
He nods, tipping his hat. “And every night… until further notice.”
He leaves.
Mistress Nina bolts the door and turns to me. “Oh, look at you. I’ll give Percy a tongue lashing he won’t forget next time I see him.” Taking my hand, she leads me upstairs to my quarters, where she helps me out of the bloodied gown. “I’ll get this soaking before it stains,” she says, before disappearing down the stairs.
I wash the blood away, then pull on my nightshift and dressing gown before returning downstairs.
“I’ve made you a tea with plenty of honey,” she says. “It’ll do you good.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the mug between my hands.
“You’re a good lass,” she says with a tired smile. “A good worker. Quick study. But change is upon us—upon you more than me. I dare say I shall need to find another assistant now.”
“I don’t feel like sleeping,” I admit. “May I stay down here a while?”
“Of course. I’ll stay with you.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“It is the least I can do,” she says. “The Goddess moves in mysterious ways. It is not for us to question what is already written.”
I fetch my new book, sip my tea, and try to read. When I glance up, Mistress Nina has fallen asleep in her chair, the book dropped against her chest.
Rising, I take the book from her hand, set it aside, and draw the blanket she has pulled over herself a little higher to keep her warm.
There is always paper and envelopes in the drawer of the dresser opposite the fire, and I gather the supplies and sit at the table where I write. I tell my parents about the attack, about the wolves who came. I tell them that I have been marked and that soon, I’ll be going on an adventure. Finally, that I might not write for a while. I tell them not to worry. And that the Goddess herself is guiding me.
I sign it,your loving daughter, Evanthe, fold it neatly into the envelope, and leave it on the table.
They will still worry. But at least this way, I have given them something to counter a little of that.
I remain standing, watching the fire sink lower. Hear the familiar ticking of the clock.
