After leaving the waiting room, Claudia headed for the rear entrance to the chapel. A carriage would be waiting there, where the saint was on standby. Church knights had accompanied her during her voyage.
It came into view as Claudia rounded the corner, tucked out of sight of the grand cathedral’s main entrance. The whole carriage was white, with gold and silver embellishments. The church’s crest was emblazoned along the sides.
The saint is just inside this carriage, Claudia thought.
The saint must have sensed her arrival because the door to the carriage swung open. A black-haired priest stepped out first, offering his hand to the woman within. The saint was swathed in white, her habit entirely different from most nuns’. The ivory fabric had embroidery of the same shade. Her entire ensemble seemed to symbolize the bright ray of hope she had become.
Claudia approached, paying her respects to the saint. The woman responded with a nod and slowly peeled back her veil. The seconds stretched on. First Claudia saw her hair, and then the rest of her face.
Her heart stopped.
It can’t be.
Claudia knew that face well. It was a little more mature than she remembered, since it had been a few years, but there could be no mistake. The woman standing before her was Lilith’s daughter and her own half-sister.
The saint was Fermina.
“Hello again, Elder Sister.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Claudia knew she should say something, but she was stunned speechless. How had Fermina escaped the monastery? No, wait, that was obvious. She had become the saint. Claudia’s mind was scrambling to keep up.
Her eyes darted around as her thoughts raced—and for the first time, she turned her attention to the man beside Fermina.
“Whatever’s the matter?” Fermina asked Claudia. “Are you not feeling well?”
Claudia’s attention was forcefully dragged back to her half-sister. “No, I’m all right,” she managed this time. “It has been so long that I doubted my eyes at first.”
“I learned much during my stay at the monastery. If I look more mature in your eyes for all those experiences, nothing could make me happier.”
Claudia had realized it was Fermina at once, but that was mostly because of her own intuition. Closer inspection revealed that Fermina held herself very differently than before. She was perfectly composed, clad in her white habit, and had the air of dignity one would expect of a saint. She had lost a bit of weight, likely during her stay at the monastery. That life had not been easy for her, it seemed.
Fermina had committed several crimes in the pursuit of ruining Claudia’s reputation. Their father, the duke, had disowned her and sent her off to a monastery. She was supposed to live quietly, away from the rest of the world. Sylvester knew how incorrigible the girl was, so he hadn’t gone easy on her. Claudia wasn’t aware of the full details, but what she did know was that Sylvester had arranged for Fermina to stay in an incredibly strict environment.
Has she changed for the better? If Fermina was telling the truth—that she really had learned her lesson at the monastery—Claudia couldn’t be happier for her, especially if she was reformed enough to earn the honor of being called saint.
“I heard you protected a young boy from the whip. Has your injury healed?” asked Claudia.
“Yes. Fortunately, it has healed completely, though it left a raised scar on my skin.” Fermina smiled brightly as she spoke about it, as if all that mattered to her was saving the boy and the lingering scar was inconsequential. This was a stark difference from her former self, a girl who’d been loath to sully her own hands with work and preferred to be waited on. It was a huge step forward, putting herself in harm’s way for another person.
Perhaps she really has matured. Claudia hoped so, yet she had the distinct feeling that something was very wrong, like invisible hands were circling her neck without her knowing.
Fermina’s calloused fingers brushed across Claudia’s skin. She pulled Claudia close, wrapping her up in a hug. There was no warmth in it, though Claudia wanted to believe that was because Fermina was nervous too.
“I have long regretted what I did to you, Elder Sister,” said Fermina. “I cannot believe how utterly foolish I was. If only I’d followed the faith better and lived an honest life sooner. Instead, I went out of my way to interpret everything you did in the most uncharitable ways possible and worked against you. I am so ashamed of myself!”
“Fermina…” Claudia murmured, moved.
Claudia, too, had been forced to face herself head-on and confront her own immaturity. That was something they had in common. And at the very least, Fermina looked entirely sincere. Having had the same experience, Claudia readily accepted Fermina’s apology.
A shadow fell over Fermina’s face. “If I had realized my mistakes…” She was probably thinking that if she had, she’d never have been sent to the monastery. Determination burning bright in her eyes, she leaned closer to Claudia’s ear and whispered, “Maybe I would have realized the truth about you sooner.”
Those words brought the past Claudia had long forgotten rushing back. But Fermina’s face wasn’t warped with smug triumph, as it had been when she manipulated those around her to condemn Claudia. Her gaze was steady, earnest.
“The truth?” Claudia echoed, confused.
“Oh, please don’t try to hide it. I already know everything.” The words hung heavy in Claudia’s ears, her mind struggling to catch up to what Fermina was saying. “You changed the moment your mother passed away. You hear rumors about people changing after seeing the error of their ways, but that wasn’t you. You were like a completely different person.”
Claudia’s entire body stiffened.
This isn’t possible. She couldn’t actually… But what if…?
No, Fermina couldn’t know Claudia had reawakened as her past self. Even if Claudia said as much, people would laugh it off.
“You used to be so ill-tempered, but suddenly, you became so composed. The perfect aristocratic lady. And you twisted our elder brother and our father around your little finger.” Fermina shook her head. “It’s obvious to me now. I didn’t believe it at first when I heard the truth, but then I remembered something. Something you did to me that made it all click.”
Before Fermina even revealed what she was talking about, Claudia knew. The skin on her back prickled, turning to gooseflesh, a chill coming over her.
“You remember the proposal you made for the school festival when we were in the academy, don’t you? That was my idea.”
Fermina was right; it had been her idea originally. Claudia only knew of it because Fermina had proposed it in her past life. She didn’t know all the details of the proposal, which was why she’d compensated by adding ideas of her own this time around. Fermina had protested at the time that Claudia had stolen it from her. She must have wondered this whole time how Claudia had done that—and now, she claimed, she knew.
“You’re a witch.”
“What?” Claudia blurted in disbelief.
“Did you really think no one would notice? Please. Have some respect for the church’s ability to gather information.”
Where did this word “witch” even come from? And what was it supposed to mean? Claudia was utterly lost.
Fermina took advantage of Claudia’s silence to press on. “I understand you used black magic to harness power beyond your ken. Please don’t turn your eyes away from your own sins.” She glanced at the church knights, sending them a silent signal.
Claudia tried to yank herself away, but Fermina had a strong grasp on her hand and refused to release her. The knights didn’t doubt their saint for a moment. Soon enough, Claudia was surrounded. Before she knew it, they had her hands tied behind her back.
“I haven’t done anything!” Claudia cried. Protesting her innocence was all she could do now.
“When I said the same in the past, you didn’t listen to me, did you?”
That was because there had been evidence of Fermina’s guilt. What proof did Fermina have?
Fermina’s large, chocolate-brown eyes gleamed with conviction. There was none of the doe-eyed innocence she had tried to play up in the past. She was the saint now, and with the power the church had vested in her, she declared, “Claudia Lindsay, you malevolent witch! I hereby pass judgment upon you. For the sin of betraying the church and resorting to the terrifying power of black magic, you shall repent!”