of the stairs before moving toward the left-hand hall. “Well, yes. But you wouldn’t be the first to believe that because my parents gave the Order a lot of money I’ve somehow been treated special.”
“Have you?” Annalise was never fond of ignoring questions for the sake of politeness. She looked down the other hall, empty but for some dust motes dancing in the shaft of light from the window at the end.
“I—well—I—” Tansy stuttered and shrugged.
When Annalise caught up to her, the girl’s cheeks had gone a painful shade of pink. “Tansy, if others have accused you of it unfairly, I won’t be one to join them. But if it’s true, it might be best to own the fact rather than pretend it’s false. You needn’t brag on a truth to admit it.”
“I don’t think so,” Tansy whispered after a moment, her head bent before she looked up more fiercely than Annalise expected. “If it’s so, it’s not because I’ve wished for it. My papa granted the Order money toward my room and board, for the cost of keeping me. It could be years before I’m deemed suitable to serve a patron—”
“Or never,” Annalise added in a murmur. “That’s always a possibility.”
Tansy nodded. “Yes. Or never. But I won’t let it be never. My parents would be so saddened, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint them so. But I know it could be a long time before my patron fees would begin to cover the cost of my time here. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my papa giving the Order a contribution to its coffers.”
That was interesting, that Tansy would be saddened to disappoint her parents should she never become a Handmaiden. “What of your own sadness should you never be determined ready to take a patron?”
Tansy blinked rapidly. “Of course I would be so saddened. It’s just that my papa has made a great effort for my keeping here . . .”
“There are those who believe they can buy their way into the Land Above with boons to the Temple.” Annalise shrugged, unconcerned. “Or upon the backs of others.”
Tansy whirled, blue eyes wide, mouth open. “No! That is not my papa!”
Annalise held up her hands to counter the girl’s alarm. “Your mercy, Tansy. I meant no disrespect to your father.”
Tansy shook her head, her shoulders hunching. “The others . . . there are others here who do. They say I am treated especial because of Papa’s gift, and I know they have reason to think so, but they never see what I’ve earned on my own merit.”
“Perhaps you should be less concerned with what others think of your merit, then.”
Tansy looked over her shoulder, red lips parted. “Mother Consolata said the very same thing to me!”
Consolata, Deliberata. Annalise knew Handmaidens were given new names upon taking their vows, but these were not names. They were characteristics. If chosen for their reference to the personality of the bearer, what name would she be given? She quirked her mouth at the corners.
“Do you mock me?” Tansy stopped in the hall, lined with more doors, these mostly half open with the murmur of voices coming from inside.
“Not at all,” Annalise assured her. “I’m simply finding all of this rather . . . unexpected.”
“There was a Seeker who came here last year. She claimed she had a Calling. She started the training. And yet all she ever did, day start to day end, was poke fun at what we do here.” Tansy’s bright expression dimmed. “She made a mockery of what we do. She was most particularly unpleasant.”
“Did she become a Handmaiden?”
“She was not sent away,” Tansy said with a sniff, but before she could continue, a door at the end of the hall flung open and a trio of young women spilled out.
“The color of this suits my eyes ever so much better,” said the tallest, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “And that gray does bring out the pink of your cheeks, Helena.”
The three paused when they spotted Tansy and Annalise. Helena, clad in gray,
“Have you?” Annalise was never fond of ignoring questions for the sake of politeness. She looked down the other hall, empty but for some dust motes dancing in the shaft of light from the window at the end.
“I—well—I—” Tansy stuttered and shrugged.
When Annalise caught up to her, the girl’s cheeks had gone a painful shade of pink. “Tansy, if others have accused you of it unfairly, I won’t be one to join them. But if it’s true, it might be best to own the fact rather than pretend it’s false. You needn’t brag on a truth to admit it.”
“I don’t think so,” Tansy whispered after a moment, her head bent before she looked up more fiercely than Annalise expected. “If it’s so, it’s not because I’ve wished for it. My papa granted the Order money toward my room and board, for the cost of keeping me. It could be years before I’m deemed suitable to serve a patron—”
“Or never,” Annalise added in a murmur. “That’s always a possibility.”
Tansy nodded. “Yes. Or never. But I won’t let it be never. My parents would be so saddened, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint them so. But I know it could be a long time before my patron fees would begin to cover the cost of my time here. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my papa giving the Order a contribution to its coffers.”
That was interesting, that Tansy would be saddened to disappoint her parents should she never become a Handmaiden. “What of your own sadness should you never be determined ready to take a patron?”
Tansy blinked rapidly. “Of course I would be so saddened. It’s just that my papa has made a great effort for my keeping here . . .”
“There are those who believe they can buy their way into the Land Above with boons to the Temple.” Annalise shrugged, unconcerned. “Or upon the backs of others.”
Tansy whirled, blue eyes wide, mouth open. “No! That is not my papa!”
Annalise held up her hands to counter the girl’s alarm. “Your mercy, Tansy. I meant no disrespect to your father.”
Tansy shook her head, her shoulders hunching. “The others . . . there are others here who do. They say I am treated especial because of Papa’s gift, and I know they have reason to think so, but they never see what I’ve earned on my own merit.”
“Perhaps you should be less concerned with what others think of your merit, then.”
Tansy looked over her shoulder, red lips parted. “Mother Consolata said the very same thing to me!”
Consolata, Deliberata. Annalise knew Handmaidens were given new names upon taking their vows, but these were not names. They were characteristics. If chosen for their reference to the personality of the bearer, what name would she be given? She quirked her mouth at the corners.
“Do you mock me?” Tansy stopped in the hall, lined with more doors, these mostly half open with the murmur of voices coming from inside.
“Not at all,” Annalise assured her. “I’m simply finding all of this rather . . . unexpected.”
“There was a Seeker who came here last year. She claimed she had a Calling. She started the training. And yet all she ever did, day start to day end, was poke fun at what we do here.” Tansy’s bright expression dimmed. “She made a mockery of what we do. She was most particularly unpleasant.”
“Did she become a Handmaiden?”
“She was not sent away,” Tansy said with a sniff, but before she could continue, a door at the end of the hall flung open and a trio of young women spilled out.
“The color of this suits my eyes ever so much better,” said the tallest, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “And that gray does bring out the pink of your cheeks, Helena.”
The three paused when they spotted Tansy and Annalise. Helena, clad in gray,
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