But what she wanted did not matter. It did not matter at all.

“If you would leave this house and this life,” she heard herself say, “I will see you safe away. But it must be now, when morning comes.”

Rosy sat up straight from her slump against the wall, near to dozing off. “But...I’ve nowhere to go, nor coin to give the sisters to take me in. And there are the customers, Bettie won’t want me going off with no warn–”

“I will see you safe away from here.” She looked the girl straight in the eye. She spoke it as an oath, a vow between them, certain and steady and true. “I will let no evil befall you.”

As the words fell from her lips, she was suddenly sure of herself and her course again. If only just for a day, she would take these lives under her protection. The enormity of it pressed on her. This was the debt she owed, one that she would happily repay a thousand times over. But now she understood, as the girl stared at her with hopeful eyes, how heavy was the weight of a life, a soul. Two of them.

She saw the moment when Rosy believed her, the threshold where doubt dissolved into certainty. The girl nodded and said, “I will take these hours to think on it, then.”

They turned down the lamp and sat in silence, waiting for the dawn.

Nan listened to the girls’ fragile breath in the dark, and took her time with her prayers. She asked God to bless and care for those who had protected her when she was vulnerable. She began, as she always did, with her Aunt Mary who had shouted that she’d not let Nan be sold to a filthy lecher. She ended with Gwenllian, her teacher and friend, who had given her the gift of knowing how to protect herself.

She held the vision of Gwenllian in her mind, the first time she’d ever seen her with blade in hand – so beautiful and fierce – as daylight filtered into the little room. Fuss was looking at her, expectant, and little Cecilia opened her eyes.

“We leave now,” Nan said, and turned to Rosy. “Do you join us?”

At the girl’s nod, she stood and gathered her few possessions. At her belt she tied the purse of nails, strings loosened so she might reach them easily if needed. Every blade was put into place – at the front of her belt, in the back, her boot, her garter, the braces on her arms. Her fingers pressed briefly against the dagger in her bodice, her heart’s protection, and she prayed today would not be the day she must draw it.