“Sister,” the Mother Superior shouted. “I explicitly said–”
Seraphina laughed and stepped into the courtyard. She looked at each nun in turn, wondering what order to give next.
“You are not welcome here.” The Mother Superior pointed a finger at Seraphina, but her eyes were on Idris, who hovered behind, uncertain if he should step through the gate or not. “I am only trying to protect the house of God, our home, and the sisters who put their trust in me–”
“You,” Seraphina locked eyes with Sister Blandina, who worked in the kitchen. “Is Briar here?”
“Yes,” Sister Blandina answered.
“Is she with a man?”
“Yes.”
“Bring them to me.”
The nun gathered her skirts so they wouldn’t drag and slow her down, and hurried past Seraphina, out through the gate.
Seraphina shot her a confused look but didn’t have time to question where Blandina was going because the Mother Superior had figured out something was wrong.
“Why is no one listening to me?” the nun yelled.
It seemed the days of her keeping a level voice were gone. The sisters reassured her, asking her what she wanted them to do. Only Magdalena stood aside, a blank look in her eyes. Hedwiga was crying silently, cradling an injured arm.
“Seize her,” the Mother Superior said. “Throw her out.”
Two sisters turned to Seraphina, but before they could take another step, Seraphina had them in her thrall.
“You, stop and stand on one leg.” To the other: “You, jump around and flail your arms.”
Everyone gasped when the women did exactly as Seraphina commanded. The Mother Superior was red in the face.
Seraphina bent over and let out a wild laugh. Tears sprung from her eyes. She didn’t want to hurt them, only give them a taste of what it felt like to be at the mercy of outside forces. Like she’d been since Matteo had written down something he shouldn’t have, forgotten to burn the pages, and consequently made Seraphina a victim of fate.
“I don’t think this is the way,” Idris said, gently touching her arm.
But Seraphina had to shoot a few more orders at the approaching nuns.
“You, stand over there and sing us a sea shanty. You, dance.”
The first one belted at the top of her lungs:
“I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid
A-roving, A-roving, since roving’s been my ru-i-in
I’ll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid”
Seraphina almost fell over laughing at the nun’s choice of the Maid of Amsterdam. She couldn’t imagine how she even knew it.
The Mother Superior was aghast, sputtering threats.
“A disgrace! Stop it, sister, or else…”
More nuns moved in, until Seraphina had to take a few steps back. She started having difficulties making eye contact; there were too many.
“Get her,” the Mother Superior yelled.
Someone gripped Seraphina’s arm, but she managed to shake her off. They were closing in, grabbing at her cloak.
