Convincing her mother to take her to prayer at the house of shining Day was a simple task. Though Brangwen was harboring dark circles under her eyes she managed to dress and fashion her dark hair into an elegant braid before stepping out. They weren’t alone in leaving the palace grounds to make their way to prayers. It was nearly midday and a crowd of the more devout had gathered, winding like a lazy river around the edge of the King’s woodlands to the city.

Finreck’s walls had once been part of a great fort; it had managed to keep many people safe over the years. As time had passed and the last siege was a distant memory, the walls had unfurled and let loose the city of greater Finreck. Expanding away from the King’s lands was the only respectful option, leaving a great strip of lush woodlands between its fragrant and noisome people and the palace grounds.

Talwyn was glad to be within the inner walls, among the older buildings of scraped white stone. The house of shining Day held tactfully placed braziers of sweet herbs burning outside on either side of the great carved doors.

Swept inside with the rest, Talwyn followed her mother to a pew and sat. Glad she was not the one who decided where they should sit. It was a careful selection sometimes, to not place oneself presumptuously too far to the front but not wishing to hide in the back. She didn’t want to appear like a sullen child dragged there for her own benefit. She was there to ease her soul. Of what she wasn’t entirely certain.

Sitting and singing along with the crowd of voices was pleasing. The sound echoed out over them all, bouncing off the high ceilings to touch at the distant carvings of happy round beetles frolicking in the maker’s garden. Still she sat, hands clasped together tightly. Holding onto something dear and terrible at the same time.

The songs came to rest and Cardinal Gall rose to stand at the front of the congregation. The man was said to have taken part in the last war, and done well. He had not arrived in Finreck as a Cardinal, but a warrior priest. Talwyn watched as his broad hands and thick forearms laid over the pulpit, and could well believe these rumours. It wasn’t often that she actually saw him speak, it was more common she saw him at the palace attending feasts or taking counsel to the King.

There was something about how he spoke and carried himself that irritated Talwyn. Though he had said nothing to her outright that felt like sharp cruelty there was always something underlying his words that put her on edge. Perhaps it was the way he was happy to take up space, his enjoyment of finer things had thickened his waist and softened his chin. There was a grandness to him and his stature that reminded her rather keenly of a bull. One of those great prize ones that would be led around by the nose on a gold ring, with a very proud farmer nearby.

The mental image of the Cardinal in such a state caused Talwyn to briefly have to look down into her hands so she wouldn’t grin. The movement seemed to catch Cardinal Gall’s attention and when she had gathered herself she had to bite the inside of her cheek to not shriek in awkward discomfort at the brief moment of eye contact.

The padded seat within the confessional booth was a deep, mossy green. Talwyn sat and tried to let the intimate quiet of the place embrace her. The chatter of people milling around in the greater body of the house outside felt distant, so much so that when Cardinal Gall cleared his throat to make his presence known Talwyn started.

“Oh uh, my apologies.” Talwyn muttered staring straight ahead, unwilling to look at the carved screen between them. “I have sinned.”

“Come, let me shed light in the small places where sins reside.”

Cardinal Gall lit the small flame behind the delicate carving of the crescent moon, illuminating it and casting a faint glow inside the booth. Talwyn could see the blurred shadow of him on the floor beneath the legs of the screen.

“I have taken a lover I should not.” Talwyn said, eyes drawn to the movement of his shadow on the ground as he shifted in his seat. He seemed to be leaning back, head tilting into his palm. Bored. “This is common for young people your age. Tell me of em.”

“We are very much in love. We have been for some time. But uhm, he is returning home soon and I…” Talwyn hesitated, uncertain what she wanted to confess. Some persistent burrowing thing worried away at her and she still couldn’t identify it. A hurt that cut deep into her palm, something she held so tightly she was sure it was just a part of her now.

“The Derrington’s boy?” Cardinal Gall asked with a soft lilt to his voice. Polite interest. “No…no.”

Talwyn watched as the shadow on the floor expanded over the floor as Cardinal Gall sat more upright. The expectant air around them filling the booth with curiosity. How he was able to impress himself on her with a barrier between them she wasn’t quite sure, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to ignore it.

“Miss Clearwaters, you must be frank with me. In his house there are no sins when they are brought to light. You understand?” “Yes, your eminence.”

The shift in tone was remarkable to Talwyn. If she wasn’t so pressed she might have laughed. What an old gossip monger the Cardinal truly was.

“Please tell me who it is you have taken as your lover. You are quite safe here. If Duke Sharpe has laid his hands on you, you would not be the first. He will be taken to task over this, I assure you.” Cardinal Gall said softly, words comforting but insistent.

“Oh! No…no not at all.” Talwyn felt surprised. Duke Sharpe had gone with the others as far as she knew but he was a much older man. And married! She shook her head and blurted out, “It’s Thomas.”

“Your brother?” Cardinal Gall said flatly, then sighed. The seat in the booth groaned audibly as he shifted his weight back away from the screen. Talwyn swore she could hear a chuckle under his breath. “Is that all?”

Talwyn stared open mouthed at the floor. Whatever it was that was paining her was clearly irrelevant. She felt foolish, a hot rush of blood to the face making her pale skin red. “It is. But it’s not allowed, is it?”

“No, of course not.” Cardinal Gall tutted. “But this is common, please do not worry yourself overmuch. After all, people grow out of these fancies. I imagine your brother has seen much down south. He will not bother you again.”

Tears, sharp and uncomfortable pooled at her lashes. Talwyn found herself quite unable to move, let alone wipe them away. A stubborn refusal to let this pain be nothing, a phase and something to grow out of forced her to continue.

“What do you mean? He loves me.”

“Miss Clearwaters…”

Talwyn could not bear the pity dripping from the Cardinal’s voice.

“He does!” Talwyn insisted. She hated the thick, pained sound of her words. She hated that the Cardinal would think he was correct. He didn’t know them! Not at all!

“I have no doubt that he does, Miss Clearwaters. But he is coming to an age where his sights will move beyond the walls of his own home. He has been gone for a year and there is no doubt in my mind that he has dipped his wick in someone more to his interest. Rather than just a convenient warm spot.”

Talwyn wanted to shriek. To kick and to push over the screen and flatten Cardinal Gall. To push the air out of him so he would never speak such things again. Instead she remained silent, fingers gripping tightly at one another. She could feel the bones creak.

In the silence that followed Cardinal Gall lit the second candle set into the screen. The outline of a joyous beetle with its right wing extended, the blue shell a glittering piece of glass, tinted the light in the booth a soothing tone.

“You have not sinned here. The only sin you have embodied is one of naivety. Please go from here in peace.”

It took so much fortitude to push the words from her mouth that Talwyn thought she had expended less effort before in climbing the garden wall.

“Thank you, your eminence.” Talwyn let the words drop from her mouth without ceremony. They fell behind her as she walked from the booth, discarded while she still held tightly onto her anxious concerns. Though the shape of them had changed. Instead of a stiff blade that sliced her palm it was more of a sliver of something dense and cold.

Quiet outrage powered her walk home, following behind her mother. Brangwen had questioned her daughter’s upset but only got sullen silence in return. If there was something troubling Talwyn, Brangwen was sure it would come out in time. Talwyn was of an age when even the sacred Houses could not soothe all her worries, so her mother would wait.

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