Eugenia nods. ‘Qi-Oh said it was an ugly death. Meaningless.’ She shakes her head and frowns, as much as her injuries allow. ‘But there are no ugly deaths. No meaningless deaths. To die is to know His grace. To have served the purpose He set for you. You cannot reach the God-Emperor’s side otherwise.’ She pauses, and looks at me, her good eye fixed on mine. ‘Is that not so?’

My heart thumps slowly in my chest, and I find that I cannot answer her.

‘Yes,’ Ashava says, in my stead. ‘Of course that is so. We all know it.’

‘Qi-Oh knows it, too,’ I say belatedly, feeling as though I am talking about myself as much as I am her. ‘I will speak with her. But first I must know of you, Sister. How do you feel?’

What I can see of Eugenia’s face flushes. Her hand strays up towards her bandaged eye.

‘There is some pain from the eye,’ she says. ‘But such is to be expected, given the trauma, and the work done to replace it.’ She pauses. ‘It is hard to sleep with an eye that won’t close, but the Sisters Hospitaller say that is to be expected, too. That it will get easier as I grow used to it.’

I try not to imagine it. Eugenia lying awake, waiting for sleep that never comes.

‘How long until you may return to service?’ I ask.

Eugenia frowns again. ‘The hospitallers say a fortnight, to allow time for the augmetic to settle. Though I do not know how I can grow used to something without using it.’

‘I will speak with them, as well,’ I tell her.

She smiles faintly. ‘That is a kindness, Sister Superior,’ she says, and then her smile falls away again. ‘Though I fear it is one I do not deserve.’

It is my turn to frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You asked me to defend you in the Navigation quarter,’ Eugenia says.

My frown deepens. ‘You did defend me,’ I tell her.

‘I allowed the creature to land a blow,’ she says. ‘To knock me down. I left you exposed, and then I lay here sleeping while you undertook the purgation.’

‘You did more than defend me,’ I tell her. ‘You spent your blood and sacrificed your sight to get me close enough to kill it.’

‘And that is enough?’ Eugenia asks, her voice a whisper.

I remember asking Adelynn the same question all those years ago as we looked over the convent’s spires and the sun sank low in the sky. I remember how I felt as I asked it. The yearning for approval. For a place. For a purpose.

For a family.