Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MAEVYTH

“ A ll these leeks.” Aleysia groaned from beside me. “Better than two winters ago. Remember all we ate was gruel? Gruel for breakfast, gruel for supper. If I never eat a bowl of that slop again, it’ll be too soon. I feel nauseous just thinking about it,” she said, and not even her imitation gagging managed to sever the menagerie of thoughts pouring through my mind right then.

I stared off to the sound of my own quiet chopping, until a sharp sting struck the tip of my finger. “Ouch!” The wooden board where I’d been slicing potatoes for stew was speckled with bits of blood that dotted the white flesh of the vegetables.

“Good grief, Maeve, pay attention.” Aleysia had already gathered a cloth, and she dabbed away the blood before wrapping it up. While I stood entranced by the miniscule bit of blood soaking the cotton, she rinsed the bloody potatoes and threw them into the pot with the others.

“They killed her,” I said quietly, not wanting to draw Lolla’s attention, where she kneaded dough for bread across the kitchen, putting her whole body into the toil as she folded it one-handedly. Two days had passed since I’d stumbled upon the Lyverian girl in the morgue, and yet, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I’d thought about her all morning during bible study, during the afternoon while doing chores. Her face. That plea for help. “They killed her, anyway.”

“Who?” Aleysia asked, taking over my half of the potatoes, while I stanched the blood.

“The servant girl. A Lyverian. Moros had killed her, I’m sure of it.”

“He’s evil, I’m telling you,” she whispered. “Life isn’t going to be grand, if you marry him.”

I didn’t want to imagine life with him. “They beat her to death. What could she have possibly done wrong to deserve that?”

“She lacked a cock. That’s enough for them. But, regardless, this isn’t your fault. Clearly, the man had ill intentions for the girl.”

I knew that, but still, the guilt persisted.

“Lolla!” Agatha called from the other room, and the older woman dusted her hand across her apron and exited through the swinging door.

The moment she was gone, Aleysia gave a sly glance over her shoulder and stepped closer.

“I have to tell you something,” she spoke even lower than before.

“What is it?”

Curling her lip between her teeth, she nibbled as she always did when she was nervous about something. “Promise you won’t tell.”

“I promise.”

“I’ve not had menses in two months.”

Frowning, I stared back at her. “Two months?”

She gave a solemn nod, chopping away at my share of the potatoes. “When it didn’t come last month, I had to cut my finger and bleed into the menstrual cloth, just so Agatha wouldn’t get suspicious. It still hasn’t come.”

“Is it …” I didn’t want to say what I already suspected, and thankfully, she didn’t bother to play ignorant that time.

She nodded, and tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes.”

I inwardly groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s his baby, and I don’t want to be tasked to figure this out alone.”

“If they find out, Aleysia …”

“I know. It’s a sin.”

Worse than murder in the eyes of some.

“What are you thinking?”

She didn’t answer, instead wiping tears from her eyes.

“You can’t have this child here. Even if they don’t send you to the woods, it will be shunned. Rejected. Agatha certainly won’t care for it.”

“She won’t. But you would, wouldn’t you, Maeve?”

I considered her question for a moment–caring for a child that the whole parish despised as much as they did me. “Of course I would. But a baby would fare better with its mother.”

“It would. But I have no intentions of having this baby. The Crone Witch has been said to terminate unwanted pregnancy. She has herbs. Potent herbs.” Had it only been a few days ago that she’d chided me for talking to the woman?

“And you intend to go to her?”

“Yes. I think so. I think it’s for the best.”

An ache throbbed in my chest. How terrifying it all must’ve been for her, having no one but Uncle Riftyn to help her navigate, and an entire parish against her–a whole flock of religious fanatics who would surely denounce her. And Agatha, of course, who’d make her life hell for the humiliation. “Whatever you decide, Aleysia, know that I’m with you. I will not leave you to figure this out alone.”

She gave a tearful smile and nodded. “I love you, Sister. I love you more than any person in this world.”

“And I love you.”

With a loud groan, Lolla pushed through the kitchen door. “Girls, are you finished with those potatoes yet? Agatha is growing impatient for supper.”

“Yes, Lolla,” I answered for Aleysia, as I unspun the cloth from my wound. I stared down at the perfectly intact skin, where the slice of the blade had left a groove only moments ago. Frowning, I dabbed it with fresh water and returned to my chores.