Page 2 of A Betrothal So Bloody

The corners of Mother Superior's thin lips tip up in a knowing smile as I kneel to kiss her hand. “Ariya, I am so very pleased to see you. Please, sit with me.”

With over sixty sisters currently serving the Order, I feel humbled that she knows me. I smooth out my skirts and reverently sit in the pew across from the two women.

“I was just reflecting on the night we welcomed you home,” Mother Superior says, smile widening slightly. She carries her age with equal measures of elegance and intimidation, the lines on her face well-earned. “You were such a frail thing, even at fourteen. I remember Ioene remarking you might be better suited to serving the Order as a historian—and oh, the scowl you made. I daresay it struck a fire in your training from the very start, didn’t it? You made it abundantly clear to us all that Ariya Valori would not be robbed of the opportunity to face the enemy head-on.”

I share her chuckle at the memory, my hands clasped in my lap. “I would go mad, toiling in that dusty old chamber. I mean, unless that’s the service I was called for, badessa.”

“It is certainly not,” Mother Superior says—and I swear that’s pride in her voice. “It’s no secret how diligently you have worked. You have become a living blade—beautiful and damning. Exactly as you should be. I’m very proud of the woman you’ve become. I doubt there’s a sister among us who would disagree. You are well-liked, and your humility serves you well.”

A pleased flush rises to my cheeks. So, I’m not getting dismissed.

“I am honored to serve, to purify the world,” I say, trying to contain my breathless relief.

Her dark brown eyes glimmer with approval at the utterance of our creed. “There’s no doubt about that. Though, as I’m sure you are aware, our one reservation has always been that your heart has more bearing than your head.”

Shame trickles down my spine. The memory never strays far from my mind: during my first group mission when I'd been just twenty two, I had fallen for a vampire’s trick. In my haste to escort weeping victims from a hovel, I had failed to realize one of them was a leech in disguise. If one of the higher-ranking sisters hadn’t recognized the ruse, I would have been responsible for the loss of countless lives.

I have not made a single mistake since then. Not one. But the Order does not forget.

“You have proven yourself many times over,” Mother Superior says, staring unwaveringly into my remorse. “It’s well time that you are wielded, Ariya. An assignment has come to us that your talents are uniquely suited for.”

She gives a slight nod to Catarina, who sits forward to address me. “There is a nobleman who has recently come under our suspicions in Florence—Signore D’Agonisto. He caught our attention with a string of strange behaviors that may indicate he has been recently turned,” Catarina explains, her voice even and measured. “Declining appearances, using couriers for all communication. Gossip is circulating that he’s quite a loner. No wife, no family to carry on his name. We cannot confirm vampirism on speculation alone, of course, but that’s where we will lean on you. Your assignment is to get close to him to determine what he is—and if necessary, kill him.”

“On my duty.” I put my fist to my chest, hoping that the tremble in my hand isn’t read as overexcitable. Frowning, I consider the nature of the assignment. “How am I to get close to this Signore D’Agonisto? Am I to pose as a servant?”

“Seduction will likely be the most expeditious,” Mother Superior replies, like she is commenting on the weather. “Particularly given that he’s dismissed close to seven of his staff in the last month alone.”

My fist drops to my lap, but Mother does not seem to notice my wide eyes.

“Catarina has done some impressive legwork ahead of your arrival, managing to speak with him at one of his rare evening appearances,” Mother goes on. “Based on her brief conversation with the man, he loathes the gossip surrounding his strange habits. He claims that age has simply made him less inclined to participate in the typical revelry expected of his title. Catarina planted a seed that perhaps an arranged marriage befitting someone of his stature would clear the rumors.”

“Marriage?” I utter.

Catarina nods. “I saw little other way to get close to him privately for such duration.” She smiles, looking wholly pleased with herself.

My demure smile feels broken at the edges. “I’m far more adept with blades and subtle infiltration. You’re certain this is suitable to my talents?”

“I have already crafted false papers to mark you of a noble bloodline. You are the perfect age,” Catarina goes on. “In his eyes, you are a prime pick. When I spoke of you, he seemed most interested. Whether his enthusiasm stems from a desire for easy prey or a convenient social match is up to you to discern, Ariya.”

Papers. As though I am a purebred mare.

“How did you manage to speak with him at all?” I press.

“D’Agonisto is reclusive, but he is an occasional patron of the performative arts. He has made the rare appearance at the intermedii in Florence—only at night, mind you.” She lifts her eyebrows sharply at this. “I procured a seat not far from him during his most recent outing. Close enough to exchange a few words.”

My heart hammers, mouth going dry. “Sister… It sounds as though you were quite near. You couldn’t confirm whether he was afflicted?”

Stiffening a little defensively, Catarina narrows her eyes at me, and I immediately drop my gaze. Shit, who am I to question a fellow slayer who has been beheading vampires longer than I’ve been alive?

“Being in such a public location, I was unable to be certain,” Catarina says evenly. “Other methods aside, it would hardly do to risk widespread hysteria should I drench the man in holy water on the spot, hm? But I was able to put the pieces of your assignment into place.”

“Of course, Sister. It is never my intention to question your judgement.” But I feel as though she is reading my mind when I meet her gaze—why don’t you marry the reclusive beast then, Catarina?

The perfect age, she’d said. Signore D’Agonisto must be younger than her, then. I exhale through my nose and nod, my mind still whirling.

“What if he isn’t a vampire?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level. “If this lord is human and we wed… I doubt he’ll take kindly to my vanishing like a spirit back to my duties here.”

I offer the smallest tilt of my lips—humor that seems to be entirely overlooked.