The next morning, Helen carried a tray of coffee into Corvina’s room, planning to wake her up. But Corvina was awake already, smoking a cigarette out on her balcony. So Helen brought the coffee out to the balcony and began setting it up.

“Good morning, my lady,” said Helen. “You don’t usually smoke this early.”

Corvina was wearing a white dressing gown, and leaning against the balcony, staring thoughtfully at something held in a handkerchief in her hand. Helen couldn’t read her expression or make out what it was that was in the handkerchief. Corvina took a drag of her cigarette and folded the handkerchief up, tucking it away. “Helen, would you return in about half an hour? I will have a letter prepared that I’d like to be delivered to the Cathedral as soon as possible.”

Helen curtsied. “As you wish, my lady.”

“And please inform the chef and the other maids that I’m expecting company for tea this afternoon.” Corvina put out the cigarette and picked up her cup of coffee. She smiled a little, as if amused at some secret joke. “That is, if it’s possible to expect anything of our unpredictable Saintess. But I certainly hope I’ll have company for tea this afternoon.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Helen.

After Helen left, Corvina pulled out the handkerchief again, unfolding it to reveal a lock of chestnut brown hair. After staring at it for a moment, Corvina made a sort of scoffing sound, shook her head, and put it away again, reaching instead for a paper and pen.

#

Eva gently placed a hand on Anne’s arm to wake her up, handing her a glass when she blearily opened her eyes. “Here, drink this,” said Eva. “It will help you feel better.”

Anne sat up and took a sip of the mixture. She gagged. “What is this?”

“It’s a hangover cure,” said Eva, with her usual gentle smile.

Anne shook her head and put the glass down on the bedside table. Anne felt terrible, but not terrible enough to drink that. “Nu-uh, no way. Hangovers are mostly dehydration, really. Just bring me a really big glass of water. And maybe some breakfast. But definitely the water first.”

“I promise this mixture will make you feel better faster than anything else,” said Eva. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“No offense to your family,” said Anne. “But I would rather be nauseous and have a headache all day than drink that.”

Anne climbed out of bed, ready to go find her own water and breakfast if she needed to. It was then that she noticed that Eva had brought several acolytes with her. One of them was carrying a basket full of various combs and brushes and scissors in different sizes.

“I told you before, but it’s important to maintain your appearance as the Saintess,” said Eva. “It’s important that we fix your hair before you go anywhere.”

Anne pointed at the acolyte who wasn't carrying anything. “You, what’s your name?”

“It’s Marietta, Saintess,” said the acolyte, with a small curtsy.

“Go get me some food and a big glass of water, Marietta,” said Anne. “The biggest glass you can find. Please.”

The acolyte curtsied again and left, and Anne sat herself down on the chair in front of the mirror, resigned to the fate of someone messing with her hair some more.

The hair was surprisingly not that bad. Slicing all your hair off in one go with a weapon like that is never gonna give you a neat style, exactly, but the knife really had been very sharp, so at least the cut was clean and the hair was largely undamaged. It was something to work with, anyway.

“My name is Betty,” said the acolyte who had brought the haircutting things. “I only trained as a hairdresser for a little while before entering the church, so I’m not sure I can really do any sort of fancy style…”

“That’s okay,” said Anne. “Just try to even it out and clean it up a bit, please.”

“It might end up looking rather masculine. I mostly did haircuts for the local village boys…”

“That’s fine,” said Anne. In fact, it was what she preferred.

Anne was actually feeling pretty good. She did have a pretty bad hangover, and she was horribly embarrassed by her behavior the night before, but she also felt more… free than she had since she’d been reborn in this body. She was beginning to feel more like herself.

In her previous life, she’d always worn fairly masculine clothes and hairstyles. It was how she felt comfortable. At first she’d thought she would have to keep dressing femininely in this new life in order to fulfill the role of Saintess, but there was precedent for more masculine Saintesses. Back in Anne’s previous world, Joan of Arc, who had dressed as a man and led an army, was one of the most famous female religious figures in history.

Of course, Joan of Arc had also eventually been burned at the stake as a witch, but Anne was trying not to think too much about that part. For now she just wanted to enjoy this feeling of self-actualization.

While Betty worked on her hair, Eva pulled a stool up and sat next to Anne. When she spoke, her voice had a patient tone. “I just want to say that I’m so sorry, dear Saintess. I should have done more to help you prepare, or I should have supported you better while you were at the ball. I see that now. You must have been so stressed to have resorted to drinking so much. I should have kept a better eye on how much you were drinking as well, but I really thought you seemed fine until you… Never mind that. The point is, I’m truly sorry. This has put us in a little bit of a difficult position, but that’s okay, I’ll find a way to salvage it for you.” Eva sighed. “But to think you would cut off your beautiful hair… you were always so proud of your hair…”

Anne’s happy mood disappeared in an instant. This was the main reason Anne hadn’t seriously considered cutting her hair earlier. Anne had no idea what Eva was thinking behind that gentle smile of hers, but Eva had been the closest person in the world to the real Saintess, ever since they were kids, and would be the most likely to notice something was off. And now Eva was watching her carefully, probably closely judging her reaction.

Perhaps it was time to pull out the nuclear option. The excuse Anne had been saving as a last resort.

“The Goddess told me to cut it off,” said Anne.

Eva looked genuinely taken aback. “What? The Goddess spoke to you?”

“She didn’t speak to me in words, exactly,” said Anne. “More like she spoke to me in feelings and ideas that came to me. I suddenly realized that having such long, luxurious hair was merely... a vanity that distracted from my relationship with divinity. As soon as I had this revelation, I had to act on it immediately. To bring myself closer to the Goddess.”

“To bring you closer to the Goddess...” said Eva. Her smile was more strained now.

Betty, on the other hand, seemed to be in awe. She practically had sparkles in her eyes as she stared at Anne. Anne had to clear her throat to get Betty to start cutting her hair again.

“Well, regardless,” said Eva. “After that commotion I really do think it’s best if we steer away from Lady Corvina for now. I’m not sure what it is you said to her last night, but I’m sure she’ll be even more dangerous to you now that you’ve shown her a side of you that she may consider a weakness that she can exploit. We might carefully attend some other noble social events where she won’t be present, and work on feeling out more whether there might be those amongst the nobility who are sympathetic to our cause.”

Anne just grunted noncommittally while Eva rambled on and Betty finished her haircut. Admittedly, Anne wasn’t entirely she wanted to see Corvina again, either. At least not right away. Anne could remember most of what she'd said the night before, and it was all mortifying.

I can’t believe I told her I loved her, thought Anne. I might just die of embarrassment if I see her again, but I also don’t want to never see her again! What would even be the point of living in this world if I never get to see Corvina?

There was a knock on the door and Marietta came back in carrying quite a large glass of water and some eggs and toast on a small tray. There was also an envelope on the tray.

“A letter came for you, Saintess,” said Marietta, placing the food and water on the table in front of Anne, then holding out the tray so Anne could take the letter herself.

“Who’s it from?” asked Eva.

“No one said,” answered Marietta. “They just handed it to me because they knew I was bringing things to the Saintess.”

Anne looked at the envelope. The only thing written on the outside was “Saintess” in an intricate script. The envelope was sealed with dark purple wax with a serpentine dragon stamped into it. Anne could remember this seal being described in The Foundling’s Wings. It was Lady Corvina’s personal seal.

Anne tore open the envelope.

“Well, what is it?” asked Eva as Anne pored over the letter inside.

“Lady Corvina has invited me to tea this afternoon at her estate.”

Eva sighed. “I’ll help you write a letter to politely decline.”

“I’m going,” said Anne. Anne looked at herself in the mirror, running her hand through her hair and examining Betty’s finished work. It was certainly very short, and boyish, and a bit messy still. Her hair had been wavy when it was long, and it seemed that, when short, it just stuck out at all angles. Anne liked it.

“Marietta, would you fetch me some pants?” asked Anne.

Eva, Marietta, and Betty all looked at Anne with shock. Anne stared back at them with a new found determination. “Dresses are also a vanity!” she said. “I need to wear pants to be closer to the Goddess! Now, go!”