Not a spark of recognition for their time together. None of the last days and nights, where they’d fought so hard for each other. When he’d held her, kissed her, when she’d slept in his arms. “Then I’m just a poor sinner, am I?” he said.
“You are.” Cold as ice.
Amélie prayed on, lost in her devotion.
Edward cleared his throat and clinked his metal rosary beads.
“If you’re not going to join us, Sir Palmer,” said Theodosia, “then perhaps you could leave us in peace until the boat sails.”
“Whatever you say, Sister,” he said, his voice a low growl of fury. “You can all pray. I need to drink.”
He stormed out, with a slam of the door that echoed through the whole building.
♦ ♦ ♦
Palmer strode down the first narrow alleyway he came to, the lights and noise of an alehouse at its end calling to him. He entered the crowded house, thirst for ale, and lots of it, on his tongue.
The server at the counter filled flagon after flagon, while another man carried them to the packed benches.
Palmer nodded to the server, who filled a vessel in readiness. He put his hand in his pocket to take out his payment. Forcurse it. He hadn’t a bean. His pocket held only the little wooden cross he’d traded his dagger for earlier. He turned quickly on his heel and left again. The ale server would be either annoyed or pitying, or both, once he saw Palmer had no money. Palmer couldn’t face either reaction, he’d seen too much of it as a boy. He’d rather walk the streets while he waited for the boat, cold as the night was.
His angry pace would keep his blood moving, if nothing else. He made his way along, Theodosia’s rejection of him an ache in his chest. Though the hour was late, people still walked here and there, some talking in tongues he didn’t recognize, and with faces he’d only ever seen on distant campaigns. Carts rumbled past him, while workers filled and emptied open warehouses by the light of lamps and candles. The world carried on as before, but for him without Theodosia, it might as well have stopped.
As he turned yet another corner, he saw Edward and Amélie pass by, bundles in hand. They must be headed for the boat. He gave a curt wave, but they didn’t see him.
Palmer filled his lungs but stopped his call. If they’d set off, Theodosia may well be at the hostel still. It was his last chance to try and speak to her alone.
He soon climbed the stairs of Saint Michael’s hostel. The door to the room in which Edward had heard Theodosia’s confession stood open, lit with meager candlelight.
With quiet steps, he went to the doorway.
Theodosia crouched on the floor, scooping at something with her hand.
“Brother Edward has you cleaning his floors for him now?”
She shot to her feet, hands closed around whatever she’d collected. “Oh, Ben — Sir Palmer. You did startle me.”
“I didn’t mean to, Theodosia. Can you forgive me, or should I add it to my list of sins?”
She flushed at his heavy sarcasm. “That is entirely up to you and your conscience, sir knight.”
“Benedict.” He walked in and stood in front of her. “My name is Benedict. You’ve used it often enough. You don’t have to stop.”
“Yes, I do. Like I have to stop speaking to you, being with you. It is part of my penance.”
“Penance for what?”
“For Fitzurse’s death.” Her gray eyes wouldn’t hold his gaze. “For my fornication with you.”
Palmer snorted. “Fitzurse brought his end on himself. It was what he deserved.” He gripped her by the shoulders with both hands and forced her to look at him. “He was going to kill you and your mother. Same as he did to Becket, and God knows how many other innocent souls.” He tightened his grip. “He was going to cook you alive, Theodosia. So seek all the forgiveness you want. I think I know God’s mind on this judgment.”
She squirmed in his grasp. “Unhand me, you blasphemer.”
He held her with ease. “Not blasphemy — the truth. And the other truth is, we did not fornicate. We had pleasure. Not sin. And it was what you wanted, asked me for, and it was my deepest happiness to share it with you. You said yourself your vocation was a lie. But here you are, back in the clothing of that lie.”
“It was Satan telling me it was a lie, trying to get me to stray from the path to heaven. He nearly succeeded, made me believe I was something I am not, and he used you to do it.”
“Let me guess: Brother Edward told you that? The smug, arrogant — ”
“He did in confession, which means he is the voice of God.”
“He’s twisted your mind.”