I see the bulgy-eyed man in a chair at the back of the chamber. I wonder that he doesn’t take a seat closer to the coffin. He must be close kin to have taken the list of foods for Doctor Howe.

Something niggles. Another old body who took a list of foods. The Willow Tree. He collected the foods from Corliss’s Recitation and the Painted Pig’s. He could have added deer heart to the lists, mayhap Tilly Howe’s too, then delivered the parchments to the clerk in the royal kitchen with none the wiser. Except me. Tilly said in her Recitation that he had been a tutor in Katryna’s household. Mayhap he knew of Queen Bethany’s pregnancy and her ladies’ deception in keeping the baby alive. Or mayhap he read the secret years later in the tapestry. What I do know is that he staked his life’s work on Bethany’s reputation as a virgin and her continuation as queen. He must have placed hearts on the coffins to keep her from knowing the babe was alive.

The revelation sends mustard seeds shooting out my nose. The folk at the Eating mutter and sputter, but the old sin eater keeps on chewing her leek, even when I start to laugh. Nothing surprises her.

In the evening, the other sin eater and I sit on our stools by the hearth together, me hoping the closeness of our space will someday become a closeness of spirit. It almost works. If it doesn’t yet match the sorts of company I’ve had before, at least I’m not alone. And, with luck, we’ll have more company soon. I’ve drawn the sign for sanctuary on our door, the one I once scrubbed off a different door. I’m hoping folk who need safe haven will find it. And that word will spread. Mayhap even all the way to Brida and Paul.

At night as I crawl into bed, I decide I’ll name the old sin eater Bessie because it feels nice. Someday, mayhap, I’ll learn her real name. I curl up under an old rug that Bessie the sin eater found for me. Mouse, my cat, curls up too. My collar’s sitting in my box by the bed. As I fall asleep, I am May again. Just May.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I’d like to thank my agent Stephanie Cabot, as well as Ellen Goodson Coughtrey, Rebecca Gardner, Will Roberts, and everyone at the Gernert Company. Thanks to my editor, Trish Todd, along with Kaitlin Olson and the team at Atria Books. And to Araminta Whitley of the Soho Agency and Sam Humphreys of Mantle. I am grateful to my early readers Carol Doup Muller, Jay Dunn, Nikki Reisch, Silvère Boitel, and the inimitable Boomie Aglietti. To my writing group, Soren Kisiel, Jenny Hagel, Dava Krause, Julia Price Baron, and Michelle Walson: thanks for the beer and noticings.