«Do you know what it's about?» she asked.
Jessamy inclined her head. «I do — though I think it will not please you overmuch. The queen informs me that you are to go this week to Arc-en-Ciel. Probably in the next day or two».
Alyce thought she had hid her dismay reasonably well, but Jessamy came to tilt her chin up slightly, also giving Marie a hug.
«You needn't look so glum», she said with a chuckle. «A convent education has much to recommend it; and Arc-en-Ciel is better than most. I would not let you be sent there, if I did not approve».
The sisters exchanged dubious glances.
«'Must we go there, Tante Jessamy?» Alyce said in a low voice.
«I'm afraid you must», Jessamy replied. «The nuns can teach you a great deal. Their discipline is firm, but their devotion to the Blessed Lady is sound, and their confessors seem tolerant of our race — so long as one does not flaunt one's powers, of course. My daughter has found it quite satisfactory».
«Has she a true call to the religious life?» Marie asked doubtfully.
«Of course. At least she assures me that she does. This is not to say that all who take the veil have a genuine vocation; indeed, some are even forced to do so, as we all know well.
«But that will not be your case, I assure you. You will find that most of the girls in the school are gently born, come there to learn the gentle arts and skills expected of noble wives and mothers. Believe me, there are far worse fates. I was younger than you when I was married off to a man old enough to be my father. The king hopes to spare you that — as does your father».
«I think I remember Uncle Sief», Alyce said quietly, after a reflective pause. «If the choice had been yours, would you have taken the veil rather than marry him?»
Jessamy shrugged, smiling thinly. «I was not given the choice», she said. «But I cannot say that I regret my children — who would be very different people, if a different father had been theirs. As for my marriage…» She shrugged. «It was no better or worse than most. Sief was not a bad man. And I have the old queen to thank for the fact that I was spared the marriage bed for the first few years, allowed to finish my girlhood in the household of dear Queen Dulchesse. Service to Gwynedd's queens has brought me a great deal of satisfaction».
Neither girl answered that comment, only bobbing dutiful curtsies before taking their leave.
«It won't be that bad, Mares», Alyce murmured to her sister as they walked, laying an arm around her shoulders. «Think of all we can learn. And we'll be safe for the next few years».
Marie merely bit at her lip and said nothing as the pair of them made their way to the queen's chambers.
They found Queen Richeldis seated before the fire in her boudoir, well-wrapped up in a fur-lined robe. Two maids were combing the tangles from her long black hair, recently washed, and her face was aglow from the warmth of the fire — and not alone from that, for she was breeding again, though she bore this pregnancy with far less discomfort than that of Brion or the ill-fated child lost in Pwyllheli.
«You sent for us, Majesty?» Alyce asked, dipping in a curtsy.
«Dear Alyce… Marie… come sit by the fire», the queen replied, indicating a place in the fur rug at her feet. «You may leave us», she added, dismissing the maids.
«Ladies, I have news for you that brings me little joy», she said, when the maids had gone. «The king has decided that it's time you took up your studies at Arc-en-Ciel. If the weather holds, you're to go tomorrow».
«So soon?» Marie blurted, falling silent at her sister's sharp glance.
«Pray, pardon my sister, Madam», Alyce said hastily, taking her sister's hand. «We know that this but fulfills our father's wishes — and we are grateful that we were permitted to stay at court until after the feasts of Christmas and the new year».
«Yes, well, you did turn many a young man's head during the festivities», Richeldis observed with a droll smile. «And not a few old men's heads as well, I am told. I suggest that you view your time at the convent as welcome respite from the marriage mart. And you needn't pack your lovely court gowns. The girls at Arc-en-Ciel wear a form of the order's habit. It's tidy and warm and saves squabbling over whose gown is prettiest. Believe me, this is useful. I spent some time in a convent school myself».
«In Llannedd, Madam?» Alyce dared to ask.
Richeldis inclined her head. «Ladies destined for noble husbands must learn reading and writing and ciphering as well as the domestic arts necessary for running a great lord's household. I hope you will make the most of your time there. Jessamy's daughter will befriend you, I’m sure».
«But, she's a nun», Marie said doubtfully.
«That's true», Richeldis agreed, smiling, «but she isn't a very old nun; I've met her. Not so many years ago, she was a girl just like you. Do give her a chance — both of you. You will need a friend there».
The slight waver in the queen's final words reminded Alyce that Deryni like herself and Marie would, indeed, need a friend within the constricted atmosphere of convent life, and she bowed her head briefly.
«I shall miss the children», she said quietly.
«And they shall miss you», Richeldis replied. «And I shall miss you!» She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. «In truth, I almost envy you. Most of my other ladies are decades older than I. Your presence at court has taken me back to more carefree days of my own girlhood».
«It has?» Marie said, brightening.
«It has!» The queen hugged the younger girl briefly around the shoulders and smiled. «You'd best be off now. I’m sure you'll wish to take a few things with you. And it will be an early start in the morning, I’m sure. The king wastes no time, once he's made a decision».
That night, the two of them supped in the nursery with Jessamy and her children, after which Jessamy helped them select what to pack for the morrow. Later, when huddled beneath their sleeping furs and coverlets in the bed they shared, the sisters conferred about the future.
«What will it be like, do you think?» Marie whispered. «Will the nuns be very strict?»
«I don't know», Alyce admitted. «But Lady Megory says that Tante Jessamy's daughter likes it there».
Marie's snort managed to convey both acknowledgement and skepticism.
«I don't want to wear a habit!» she said after a short silence.
«Well, we must», Alyce replied. «Think of it as camouflage, so that we'll blend in with the other girls», she added. «But Tante Jessamy says we don't have to wear the wimple».
«Thank God for that!» Marie retorted. «What do you suppose they'll teach us?»
«Not what we'd like to learn, I'll warrant!» Alyce said with a snicker. «Father wants us to learn lady-things, like fine needlework. And I think he hopes that Tante Jessamy will teach us some of the other things we do want to learn».
«She has to be careful, though», Marie said. «Even with the king as her patron, she daren't be open about what she is».
«No, and we mustn't be, either», Alyce replied. «Promise me you'll be discreet, Mares».
«I'll certainly try», Marie agreed. «Oh, Alyce, what's to become of us?»
Alyce merely hugged her sister close, for there was no answer to that question. Come the morrow, they would know all too well, for better or for worse.
Alyce had feared she would not sleep at all, as visions of what might be danced behind her closed eyelids, but all too soon, Mistress Anjelica was shaking her to wakefulness, a candle in her hand.
«Wake you now, little ones», she murmured. «You'll want something warm in your stomachs before you ride out into the cold. At least it looks to be a fine day dawning».
It was, indeed, a fine day, once the sun came up — bright and sunny, if very cold. The king had assigned a ginger-haired young knight called Sir Jiri Redfearn to escort them, along with half a dozen of the household guard. Jessamy had decided to bring along her nine-year-old, for a surprise visit with her sister. A maid also rode with them, for they would stay the night in the convent's guest house, and a manservant to manage the single pack horse.
Their little cavalcade was on its way not long after first light, wending its way northward along the east bank of the river, past the seminary called Arx Fidei, and then into the foothills. They rode slowly, perhaps in deference to Jessamy, for though fit enough, she was of an age to be mother of all of them save the maid and the manservant.
The short winter day was drawing to a close as their party crested a hill and came, at last, within sight of the convent's bell tower. The gold of the dying sun kissed the snow before the barred convent gates, and shone in rainbow shimmers on the mist beginning to rise as the day's warmth faded and the shadows lengthened. As they picked their way down that last slope toward the entrance, a bell was ringing out one of the afternoon offices.
«There it is, my dears», Jessamy announced. «Notre Dame d'Arc-en-Ciel, the royal convent of our Lady of the Rainbow. The order began in Bremagne, did you know?»