“Thank you again,” she said to me.
I turned to Cyprilis and my eyes searched her quaint face. It was round like an apple, with rosy cheeks. Our gazes locked for an uncomfortable length of time—
And before I could react, Sister Cyprilis swiftly puckered her lips, pushed her face forward, and kissed me on the lips.
I gasped at the softness of her lips, her closed eyes. My head reeled back, startled. “S-Sister Cy!” I yelped. My heart was in my throat.
Sheer shame and horror overtook her features. “Oh Faithful, I’m so sorry!” she squealed, putting her palm to her lips to hide her embarrassment. “Was that wrong, Sister? I only thought you’d like it.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it. Here was this charming, sweet girl who never told a lie and lived by the Book. Where had she learned to do such a thing? What had incited her tokissme?
My mind spun. Before her cheeks could get any redder, I shook my hand and flapped a palm nonchalantly at her. “Erm, n-no, Cy, it wasn’twrong. It’s not that Ididn’tlike it, it’s just, um, well . . .”
I had no idea what I was saying, my tongue tied like a knot. Her eyes implored me, begging for an answer I didn’t have. Then she looked away, down to the emptying bazaar with her shoulders sagging.
A sense of urgency took me. I felt a crazed sensation that Sister Cyprilis was about to push herself off the edge of the rooftop.
I put a hand on her thigh, if only to stop her.
Her eyes fell on my hand. I imagined she had a different understanding of why I was doing that—why I put my hand on her after just rebuffing her innocent advances.
When she looked up at me sadly, she murmured, “I’m very sorry, Sister Sephania. Father Cullard says it’s natural to want to make others feel loved, is all. I-I didn’t know what I was doing. Please forgive me?”
My stomach sank to my ragged boots. I blinked at her, trying to hide my shock. Cullard hadneversaid anything like that to me. It certainly wasn’t in the Book of Truths.
“. . . Cyprilis,” I drawled, my tone tinged in anger I couldn’t hold back. “What do you mean when you say Father Cullard says it’snatural?”
It took a week of late-night spying to confirm my suspicions. While stalking the narrow halls of the House of the Broken like a wraith, I prayed I was mistaken.
The evening was late, with a particularly bright moon shining through various windows of the compound.
After a week of stalking, I knew the halls well, and the routes of the Night-Brothers who watched the place for signs of trouble. The Night-Brothers were fifteen-year-old seniors on the cusp of getting their coins and leaving the House.
Trouble like this had either escaped them or they were told to simply ignore it.
Father Cullard’s chamber had a single window at the back, high on the wall. It let in soft morning light and late-night moonshine. Even with my growing height, I wasn’t tall enough to see into it.
I improvised by setting up small boxes at the foot of the window, once per night over the past week. I only stacked one box at a time to make sure it remained the following day, and that my ploy was not uncovered.
To get to the back of Cullard’s chamber, I had to venture through the courtyard, past the whipping tree, and into the gardens, which were tended by the Sisters of the House.
The tall rushes and snaking vineyards on a nearby fence did well to hide the boxes I had placed—three in all, sitting where I’d left them.
I took a deep breath, climbed onto the boxes, and tested my weight. When I knew it would hold, I put both feet on and lifted myself up. On my tiptoes, I could see into the Father’s chamber—
And there she was. Just as suspected. Her back turned to me. I could identify her because I knew Cyprilis’ stature well by this point—the bony shoulder blades, the narrow waist, the bright hair.
The Sister’s robe was a heap on the ground around her ankles. She stood naked and bony, pale buttocks bright from the the moonlight streaming into the room.
Father Cullard was on his knees in front of the girl, head bent while he peppered the severe dip of her shoulder to neckwith kisses. His hand was trapped somewhere between her legs where I couldn’t see. His other hand was lost inside his robes.
The anger that rose up inside me was swift and vengeful. Bile came to my throat. I had to force it down. Cyprilis, sweet Cyprilis, stood rigid and confused in the moonlight.
My young rage could not be quelled—the betrayal, the deceit. I may have been young, but I knewwrongnesswhen I saw it.Father Cullard,I thought grimly.Another name to add to my list along with Jeffrith the ruffian.
I had no idea what my list meant at that moment. Only that I had one.
Cullard’s eyes abruptly snapped past Cyprilis’ shoulders, the whites of his orbs tilting his gaze to the window because my head had blocked out a section of moonlight.
