Someone isn’t telling the whole truth in this gripping short story by H. Johnson-Mack.
Constantina smiled. “You’re more than welcome. Whatever we can do for the ladies of
Langlois, Alain and I offer gladly. Which reminds me, I must pay a visit to the Reverend Mother before I leave.”
“And I should be getting back to my little kingdom before Nones.” Ursula sighed. “No rest for the wicked, as they say.”
Constantina hardly heard her; she was concentrating on something over the nun’s shoulder.
“It appears you are about to have guests, my dear,” she observed.
Ursula followed her gaze toward the entrance gates, where two travellers were being admitted; one young and rather handsome in clerical robes, the other seemingly his beast of burden, laden down with travelling bags and a sour expression.
At that moment, the cleric glanced in their direction and, catching sight of an obvious noblewoman in the courtyard, sketched a stately bow.
“And rather interesting ones, by all appearances,” Constantina remarked in an aside to Ursula, acknowledging the courtesy.
Ursula watched the new arrivals accept the quiet welcome of Sister
Catherine, Langlois’s almoness.
They then followed her to the guest-house tucked behind the gates, Dour-face peering about him with poorly disguised curiosity.
“As you say,” she murmured.
She was as interested as anyone else by folk, especially strangers. And with his air of serenity and angelic face, the cleric