The Vampire & Her Witch

Chapter 1764: Summoned to the Mother Superior

"Initiate Maela," a stern voice said the instant she stepped back into the convent, pulling her out of her darkening thoughts. The woman who spoke wore the gold robes and crimson hood of a full Confessor, combined with a golden stole of office that made it clear in an instant that her authority in the convent was greater than most.The expression on her potato-shaped face, unfortunately, made it just as clear that she despised the woman who seemed to hold the Mother Superior’s favor, and her lips puckered as though she’d just eaten a lemon when she spoke to Maela.

"The Mother Superior requires your presence immediately," Confessor Noyala said, scowling at the basket in Maela’s arms. "Leave that here; someone else can return it to the kitchens," she said.

"Or you can come back for it when the Mother Superior is done with you. She isn’t to be kept waiting," Noyala said, turning on her heel and walking away as quickly as her thick, stubby legs would carry her, leaving Maela no choice but to drop the basket and come rushing after her.

"What, what does the Mother Superior require of me, Confessor?" Maela asked once she’d caught up to the shorter woman.

Maela kept her pace even and her distance behind the Confessor was perfectly respectful, but anyone glimpsing the pair as they passed by was left with the strange impression that Confessor Noyala was rushing to fulfill Maela’s orders, escorting her through the convent, rather than watching an Initiate respectfully following after a Confessor.

"That’s for her to tell you when you arrive," Noyala snapped. "Perhaps she’s finally grown tired of you distracting the rest of the convent, and she’s ready to put an end to your charade of piety," the potato-faced woman mused. "Or perhaps you’ll finally get your wish, and she’ll strip my stole away to offer it to you," she said in a much darker tone.

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?" Noyala added sharply. "All your years of gifts and gold, finally letting you ascend to a place of power within these walls... But it doesn’t work that way, ’Countess Maela,’ no matter what the lords say. You can’t buy the Holy Lord of Light’s blessings, any more than your pretty face can charm you into his heart."

"I’ve never tried to buy blessings or favors," Maela said, refusing to let the Confessor bully her into an admission of wrongdoing when she’d only come here in search of a final place of safety from the turmoil of her life.

It was true that she’d brought a donation with her when she’d arrived, just as she had every time she’d visited the convent before. Maela believed in the work the convent did to rescue those in need, but she also knew that it was easier to feed the hungry and heal the sick if you had silver for flour and gold for medicines.

She’d been a lady all her life, the daughter of a count and, later on, the wife of one, and she understood full well the responsibilities that came with her position of privilege. If other people saw her donations as an attempt to curry favor or bribe her way through life... That was their failure to understand, but now that it had been spoken aloud she refused to let the rumor stand.

After all, while she could swallow the insult, she couldn’t let anyone, especially a Confessor within their own walls, imply that the Mother Superior had accepted bribes. She owed the Mother Superior far too much for that.

"If the Mother Superior favors me, I’m sure she has her reasons," Maela added. "And if she hasn’t seen fit to share them with you, then I’m sure she has her reasons for that as well."

"Save your pretty, courtly words for someone who wants to hear them," Noyala said, glowering at Maela’s classic, graceful profile and the regal bearing she managed even while wearing nothing but an Initiate’s shapeless white robes. "And don’t think that I’ll accept insolence just because it’s wrapped in a pretty bow. When Mother Superior is finished with you, return to the kitchens for an evening of scouring," she commanded.

"Yes, Confessor Noyala," Maela said, bowing her head low before straightening up as if she wasn’t bothered by the punishment at all. "But first, I’ll speak with the Mother Superior. If she has other orders for me, I may not be able to follow yours..."

"A week of scouring," Noyala amended. "Don’t think that I haven’t learned to recognize the look of a woman wracked with guilt and haunted by her sins," the Confessor said, stopping in the middle of the hall to round on Maela.

"We may restrain the lash in this convent, but there are other ways to purify the flesh and purge the stain of darkness from your hands," she said, frowning at the soft, slender hands Maela still possessed despite months spent doing chores. "Hot water and harsh soap can never wash away your wrongdoing, but good, honest work can scour away what soap cannot."

"I know my hands are far from clean," Maela said, bowing her head to prevent Noyala from seeing the look of hurt and loss that flickered across her face at the accusation. After all, she’d hidden a witch from the Church for twenty years...

In the eyes of the Church, a lifetime of scouring pots and pans on her hands and knees couldn’t atone for the crimes she’d committed. But Maela wasn’t here to atone for her own crimes; she was here in the hopes that one day, she could light the way for her lost daughter who had never once shown herself to be the sort of evil the Church proclaimed her to be.

Ashlynn had lost her chance to earn redemption in this life, but if Maela could take on the burden of her daughter’s mark and make amends on her behalf, then perhaps... Perhaps Ashlynn could still find her way to the Heavenly Shores, or at least a next life that was free of such unearned pain.

"I know my hands are far from clean, Confessor," Maela repeated as she struggled to bring her racing heart under control. "All I ask for is the same grace given to every sinner, to struggle toward the Light and my own hope of finding redemption in the end..."

"As if a person like you could..."

"Enough, Noyala," a well-worn voice called from the end of the hall. "I seem to recall saying that I needed to speak with Initiate Maela as soon as possible," the Mother Superior continued as she opened the door to her office wide. "So why is it that I find you lecturing her here, in the middle of the hall?"

"Mother Superior," Noyala said quickly, bowing her head low and spreading her golden robes wide in a deep curtsy. "I was just explaining to Initiate Maela that..."

"Enough," the older woman said, waving a slender, bony hand to dismiss the woman who held responsibility for overseeing the Initiates. "I’ve summoned her, you’ve brought her here, now I have matters to discuss with her."

"I’m certain you have matters of your own to attend to," the Mother Superior added. "Like demonstrating to the initiates the proper methods for scouring pots and serving trays," she said with a sharp glare that Noyala struggled to meet. "I think that you should instruct them personally tonight and every night for the next week."

"A bit of honest, hard work is good for the spirit, isn’t it, Noyala?" the Mother Superior said with the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of her thin lips. "Now, come, Maela, we have much to discuss tonight and little time to do it..."