1. ONE #2
I share her chuckle at the memory, my hands clasped in my lap. “I would go mad, toiling in that dusty old chamber. I mean, unless that’s the service I was called for, badessa.”
“It is certainly not,” Mother Superior says—and I swear that’s pride in her voice.
“It’s no secret how diligently you have worked.
You have become a living blade—beautiful and damning.
Exactly as you should be. I’m very proud of the woman you’ve become.
I doubt there’s a sister among us who would disagree.
You are well-liked, and your humility serves you well. ”
A pleased flush rises to my cheeks. So, I’m not getting dismissed.
“I am honored to serve, to purify the world,” I say, trying to contain my breathless relief.
Her dark brown eyes glimmer with approval at the utterance of our creed. “There’s no doubt about that. Though, as I’m sure you are aware, our one reservation has always been that your heart has more bearing than your head.”
Shame trickles down my spine. The memory never strays far from my mind: during my first group mission when I'd been just twenty two, I had fallen for a vampire’s trick.
In my haste to escort weeping victims from a hovel, I had failed to realize one of them was a leech in disguise.
If one of the higher-ranking sisters hadn’t recognized the ruse, I would have been responsible for the loss of countless lives.
I have not made a single mistake since then. Not one. But the Order does not forget.
“You have proven yourself many times over,” Mother Superior says, staring unwaveringly into my remorse. “It’s well time that you are wielded, Ariya. An assignment has come to us that your talents are uniquely suited for.”
She gives a slight nod to Catarina, who sits forward to address me.
“There is a nobleman who has recently come under our suspicions in Florence—Signore D’Agonisto.
He caught our attention with a string of strange behaviors that may indicate he has been recently turned,” Catarina explains, her voice even and measured.
“Declining appearances, using couriers for all communication. Gossip is circulating that he’s quite a loner.
No wife, no family to carry on his name.
We cannot confirm vampirism on speculation alone, of course, but that’s where we will lean on you.
Your assignment is to get close to him to determine what he is—and if necessary, kill him. ”
“On my duty.” I put my fist to my chest, hoping that the tremble in my hand isn’t read as overexcitable. Frowning, I consider the nature of the assignment. “How am I to get close to this Signore D’Agonisto? Am I to pose as a servant?”
“Seduction will likely be the most expeditious,” Mother Superior replies, like she is commenting on the weather. “Particularly given that he’s dismissed close to seven of his staff in the last month alone.”
My fist drops to my lap, but Mother does not seem to notice my wide eyes.
“Catarina has done some impressive legwork ahead of your arrival, managing to speak with him at one of his rare evening appearances,” Mother goes on.
“Based on her brief conversation with the man, he loathes the gossip surrounding his strange habits. He claims that age has simply made him less inclined to participate in the typical revelry expected of his title. Catarina planted a seed that perhaps an arranged marriage befitting someone of his stature would clear the rumors.”
“Marriage?” I utter.
Catarina nods. “I saw little other way to get close to him privately for such duration.” She smiles, looking wholly pleased with herself.
My demure smile feels broken at the edges. “I’m far more adept with blades and subtle infiltration. You’re certain this is suitable to my talents?”
“I have already crafted false papers to mark you of a noble bloodline. You are the perfect age,” Catarina goes on.
“In his eyes, you are a prime pick. When I spoke of you, he seemed most interested. Whether his enthusiasm stems from a desire for easy prey or a convenient social match is up to you to discern, Ariya.”
Papers. As though I am a purebred mare.
“How did you manage to speak with him at all?” I press.
“D’Agonisto is reclusive, but he is an occasional patron of the performative arts.
He has made the rare appearance at the intermedii in Florence—only at night, mind you.
” She lifts her eyebrows sharply at this.
“I procured a seat not far from him during his most recent outing. Close enough to exchange a few words.”
My heart hammers, mouth going dry. “Sister… It sounds as though you were quite near. You couldn’t confirm whether he was afflicted?”
Stiffening a little defensively, Catarina narrows her eyes at me, and I immediately drop my gaze. Shit, who am I to question a fellow slayer who has been beheading vampires longer than I’ve been alive?
“Being in such a public location, I was unable to be certain,” Catarina says evenly. “Other methods aside, it would hardly do to risk widespread hysteria should I drench the man in holy water on the spot, hm? But I was able to put the pieces of your assignment into place.”
“Of course, Sister. It is never my intention to question your judgement.” But I feel as though she is reading my mind when I meet her gaze—why don’t you marry the reclusive beast then, Catarina?
The perfect age, she’d said. Signore D’Agonisto must be younger than her, then. I exhale through my nose and nod, my mind still whirling.
“What if he isn’t a vampire?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level. “If this lord is human and we wed… I doubt he’ll take kindly to my vanishing like a spirit back to my duties here.”
I offer the smallest tilt of my lips—humor that seems to be entirely overlooked.
Mother Superior doesn’t bat an eye. “In that case, the marriage will be quietly dissolved in a few years’ time, unless your union proves advantageous to the Order. A wealthy patron has his uses. We can certainly put his funds to better use than those frivolous performances.”
I hardly hear a thing she says after years.
One of the most foundational rules of the Order forbids lustful intimacy for sake of keeping our focus honed—and they want me to crawl into bed and offer myself up, ripe for the taking?
Swallowing bile, I steady myself. Never once have I heard of an assignment of this nature.
Yes, Sisters are sent off in disguise for weeks, even months, at a time, but never with roles so intimate.
I’ve heard stories from my fellow sisters posing as servants, brothel owners, couriers…
But to masquerade as someone’s wife? Cleaving a head from shoulders sounds far more appealing. Anything but this.
My expression must break because Catarina clears her throat smartly. “No fear, Ariya. If you are to play your role successfully, you must be conscious of the story your face tells at every moment.”
Nodding hollowly, I attempt to school my expression back into an obedient, tempered mask. My smile can only hold for mere seconds, and to my surprise, Mother Superior reaches for my hand and softens.
“You have performed excellently in training. You have assisted in many a hunt, earned the blood of our enemy on your blade. What are your worries, child?”
Wetting my lips, I squeeze her hand and look at her beseechingly.
“If he’s not the leech we suspect… I— Am I expected to perform…
wifely duties?” Color rushes to my face.
This is not a conversation I should ever have to navigate with Mother Superior, of all people.
“Surely this lord has physical desires. I am not well-versed.” That’s putting it lightly.
And then, my traitorous mouth adds, “Perhaps one of the other girls would be more suited for this role.”
I may as well have driven a blade into my gut and twisted the handle. Who am I to turn down an assignment—my first solo one, at that? After all these years of waiting, I have suddenly become a coward in the face of an unconventional task.
“You were handpicked for this role, Ariya,” Mother says firmly.
“I know in my heart that you are more than capable. As for your wifely duties… Surely, you understand that the mission of the Corvus Order rises above your fears. I assure you, such petty physical distractions will wane in time.” She pats my hand kindly, though this does nothing to ease my mounting anxiety.
“I know you will make us proud, dear girl.”
For the first time in my twelve years here, I’m not sure I will.
I bow my head. “I am yours to wield.”
Catarina rises, extending a hand to me. “Come. We depart in two days, and you have much to prepare.”