[Scayde]

The evening sun filtered through the chancelery where Nova Dolorosa Peltier sat quietly in the company of Father Pru’Dhomme. Absently she allowed the elderly Friar’s voice to hum in the background as she teased his mind for secrets he wished not to reveal.

Drop by drop the information was collected as drip by drip she let the frozen water drizzle over the sugar cube and sluice through the silver slatted spoon to form the Louche, or shade, in the emerald splash of color below. She had learned the benefices of Absinthe in applying the art from her father, and Father always knew best.

Le Père, pourquoi vous avez gardé ce secret de ces enfants?

Surely this sin is on your head.

Father Pru’Dhomme’s head jerked around, startled at the implication.

“Mon Cher”, I assure you that the children’s father went to great lengths to ensure that this secret be kept. I think it is imprudent for you to question our wisdom in this matter.”

Doloros gingerly let the spoon down and looked up, her pale eyes empty and piercing.

“Pe're, I can do nothing but question the wisdom of such artifice. This is not casual intrigue we address. The consequences of this secret are far too dire.”

She gathered her flask and rosary from the table where they lay and gracefully rose from the table.


“Adue Pe're, there is much I must attend to.”