“I’m sorry, where were we?”

“Your umbrella is in the innermost part of your bag. If you go outside the station, there will be someone waiting for you whom your master has sent ahead of time. You must write to him, and don’t skip a meal; I don’t know how you’ll like the food at the convent.”

The nanny sighed softly as she pressed the package of cold lasagna into her hand. Belviana’s once immaculate face, like a white amaryllis, had taken on a haggard appearance in recent days. She hadn’t slept much lately, often spending nights in tears, and she couldn’t swallow even soft food properly.

The nanny remembered her sobbing and shaking with fear the previous night. She had been born precious and had been prized all her life. It was even stranger that she could endure the coldness of her parents for the first time in her life with her sanity intact. The nanny squeezed her spare hand.

“Hold on to your worries. By next summer, everyone will have forgotten about it, and by then you’ll be back.”

Belviana nodded weakly. For all her nanny’s naiveté, she knew her father’s flaws better than anyone. A devout member of the church, he abhorred anything extravagant and unclean. She remembered how the count had fretted like a pestilence over the way the trend of free love from Saxony was creeping into the capital’s social circles.

As a nobleman who was supposed to support his family and estate, nothing could be more disgraceful to the country than to marry in love, and while he had reluctantly allowed his daughter into society, he had strictly regulated her behavior. A handkerchief, perfume, or a bouquet of flowers would suffice as a gift from a man, and no physical contact other than a kiss on the back of the hand and a light embrace.

Any indecency she committed was a betrayal of her fidelity, and according to church doctrine, her soul was damned to hell, where no indulgences could save her. She was no longer a daughter, but a disgrace to the Count, who had devoted his life to the integrity of his family. It would have been better if she had disappeared altogether, as he had originally planned.

“The train is leaving. Goodbye.”

The nanny looked back at her as if she couldn’t believe her ears and reboarded the train. Belviana waved back, and only when the train was a tiny speck did she wipe the smile from her face. The breath she’d been holding seemed to be released at once.

The surveillance from the mansion was tiresome, and the pity was terrible. Of course, perhaps she was being overly sensitive, taking even the old woman’s genuine concern as sympathy. She picked up the bag at her feet with both hands and slipped out of the platform. As she entered the waiting room, an old, grizzled man with his hat pressed down low lifted his head lazily, then jumped to his feet at the sight of her.

“Lady Lester?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

There was a hint of the North in the man’s accent as he took the leather bag from Belviana’s hand.

“Is this all your luggage?”

“Yes.”

“Then follow me.”

The man led her to an old carriage he had parked in front of the station. The carriage was so old and rickety that it was doubtful it would even roll, and the worn seats were caked with mud. She climbed in carefully, trying not to get mud on her clothes, and the carriage was soon rattling along.

It didn’t take her long to realize that Aalborg was a very simple country town. It was a hodgepodge of shoddily constructed buildings along the river that ran through the town. The ramshackle buildings were dusty, but the streets were generally clean. The carriage continued for another forty minutes past Aalborg’s central business district.

The carriage rattled terribly, and the road was muddy. Her whole body felt like it was being pummeled. Only when she was almost fainting from exhaustion and hunger did the carriage stop in front of a long path.

“You’ll have to walk from here. Let me unload your luggage.”

The coachman found her leather bag among the luggage on top of the carriage and lowered it. Belviana nearly rolled off the high carriage, leaving two large mud stains on her otherwise pristine dress.

“Follow the road and you will see the convent.”

“Thank you.”

“And…….”

The old coachman frowned once, then made a face as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth. She waited impatiently at the beginning of the path, as if he had something more to tell her, and when he finally spoke, it was with an air of reluctance.

“The Count said, that you should live like you were dead, and that he would call you back at the proper time.”

She laughed coldly through her teeth. It was more hopeful than a promise to stay away, but Belviana could see the calculating nature behind the words. If the right man came along who could overlook her flaws, she would be sold cheaply.

“…… Is that all there is?”

“Nothing else.”

He looked puzzled. As if she could sink any lower than this. He rubbed his wrinkled brow, then spoke in a brighter tone.

“If you need anything, write to Bill at the Oljo Inn. Be it beeswax or soap, you’ll be hard pressed to get anything, being so far from the original village, but I’ll bring it to you without the Mother Superior knowing.”

“Thank you.”

The old man climbed into the wagon as if to flee. Belviana watched the carriage pull away, feeling not so desperate after all. She walked up the cobbled path, dragging her leather bag on the ground. It seemed like she’d be there in no time, and she couldn’t even see the convent’s sign.

She set her bag down and walked for twenty minutes, stopping to rest and drag it. Even though she was walking on a lonely forest path, she somehow felt increasingly lost. As she made her way through the dwindling trees, she came to what looked like a barred back door.

The three-story ash-colored building looked more like a fortress than a convent. For better or worse, it didn’t seem to have the same religious coloring, and for worse, it was overly austere. It was a far cry from the stately convents of Coventry or Catling, where aristocratic ladies were often devoutly religious. A girl cast out could not be sent to a convent where nobles came and went, so the only place left was Aalborg.

She carefully opened the gate and stepped through the back door. The building was unusually cool in the absence of sunlight. It was late in the evening and the sun was barely out, but she doubted that preconceived impression would change much in the light of day. A few steps down the corridor, the woman in the open doorway looked up from her paperwork. Her bespectacled gaze was unusually sharp.

“You must be Lady Lester?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Sister Eli, and you’re late; I thought you’d be here before dinner.”

“My train was delayed, so I sent a telegram from the previous station…….”

The woman said coldly, cutting off Belviana’s rambling mid-sentence.

“I didn’t receive the telegram, so if what the lady says is true, there must have been a mix-up along the way.”

“…….”

“The Count of Lester has requested that the lady be accepted as an apprentice nun, which means that you will have to live the life of a common nun, not a noble, at least not here. Once you’ve received your habit, you’ll have to send that dress back home as well, as such clothing is not allowed, at least not in the convent in Aalborg.”