Stigmata

I am not a Child

A week passed before I was able to put my plan into motion.

I spent most of that time in the library, as I no longer had to assist with chores. The abbot was a fool, but not an idiot. As soon as he saw the winds changing, he rushed to match them. I no longer lived among the other acolytes and now had a guest room to myself. My clothing was also upgraded. Though it was still simple, undecorated white cloth, it set me apart from the rest of the people in the monastery. I wasn't at the bottom of their hierarchy anymore. Instead, I stood in a liminal space, caught between the cursed acolyte I was and the true princess I aimed to become. It was an awkward phase, and no one really knew how to treat me, anymore.

Well, almost no one.

There was a gentle knock on my door and I turned to greet Father Rowan as he opened it. The smile on his face was the same as it always was. If he was concealing his unease, I would never know. I preferred to believe it was genuine. If I was fooling myself, then...

I didn't finish that thought.

"Found you," Father Rowan said as though I was hiding in the hollow tree again. "A Lord Shay has arrived at the gates, Your Highness."

Ha. Lord Shay. If the Duke heard him, then...

Then nothing. This was a monastery. Rank wasn't supposed to mean anything here. Even if things were different in reality, Father Rowan could still use that to his advantage.

And so could I.

"Thank you for letting me know," I said with a smile. I could only hope it was as convincing as his. After so many years under the veil, I could no longer control my expressions as well as I wanted to. "If he asks for me, please tell him I am waiting in the western sanctuary."

His kind eyes widened and it looked like he might scold me like he used to. Then he sighed.

"Yes," he said with a sad shake of his head. "I suppose you have the right to use that room, don't you. You'd think I'd remember that you really are a princess."

If I let myself think about it, the distance that was growing between me and the man who raised me was a little depressing. No, more than a little. That was why I tried not to think about it.

...

Aiyah~, I'm too soft.

I reached out and took Father Rowan's calloused hands in mine. "I won't forget you," I said seriously, meeting his gaze with mine and holding it. He flinched but didn't look away. "I'll always remember my Father."

Tears gathered in his eyes and he turned away. I let him go and slipped out of the room before I joined him and we both became sobbing emotional messes. I had somewhere to be, and I doubted tears would work on the great Duke Shay. Not on our first meeting, anyway. No, a man like him would have no sympathy for his sister's daughter.

Especially not when she looked exactly like the man who ruined that sister's life.

It didn't matter, though. I didn't want his sympathy.

The western sanctuary was a place reserved for noble guests who wanted to pretend they were devout. It was humble in a way that reeked of wealth and made those of us who knew better uncomfortable. There were a few simple wooden pews carved from the finest mahogany lined up in front of a single marble statue of the Goddess Alítheia. This one was different from the ones outside. Those were built to survive the elements and thus lacked any details that might be lost to time. This one was exquisite. The lines in her outstretched hands were carved with loving care and her face looked like it might speak at any moment. It was almost as if the Goddess who blessed me with her stigmata was in the room with me.