She flung herself back on her creaky bed with a groan. Was this what happened when you…came out to yourself, or whatever? The dam broke and let the flood in all at once?

It wasn’t fair. You should be able to get used to this kind of thing gradually. There should be a grace period.

Full of grace, Hæra whispered in her mind.

Madeleine groaned, rolled over, and felt again the slickness between her thighs. Grace didn’t seem likely. Yet she’d been so happy in the dream, all that dirty shame nowhere in sight. She hadn’t hated herself. Madeleine had simply wanted to let Hæra give her what she needed. It had felt like freedom, not the chaste cage her life was supposed to be.

Maybe—maybe it was possible that something that could make her feel like that didn’t have to be a curse? Or not just a curse? Maybe…

Down that path lay mortal danger to her soul. She wouldn’t think about it. She’d stop thinking about it right now. After all, she’d spent her whole life deliberately not thinking about this. It was second nature. She could do it in her sleep.

Madeleine groaned and rubbed both hands over her face.

No, actually. She couldn’t.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next morning, Madeleine promised herself not to make it weird.

She was back at the farmhouse with Jonathan, and he was making breakfast. They were going to talk. Never mind her dream. Madeleine was going to focus on what mattered today, and she was going to be normal.

The breakfast itself, however, wasn’t normal for her. Even after leaving the Daughters of Grace, Madeleine kept her breakfast light: cereal or yogurt, maybe some fruit. She wasn’t ready for what Jonathan called his “fry-up.”

“There you are,” he said triumphantly, placing before her a heaping plate of food. “A proper Scottish breakfast. These are my best tattie scones, made from potatoes. Baked beans, fried tomatoes, and black pudding.”

Madeleine tried not to sound apprehensive as she looked at the round, dark slices of meat. “Black pudding?”

“Oh yes. It’s made of…” Jonathan seemed to hesitate. “It’s a type of sausage. This’ll give you energy for the day and no mistake.”

“Thanks,” Madeleine said weakly, hoping it wouldn’t also give her a stomachache.

He poured her a full cup of coffee and sat down, snapping his napkin out before dropping it in his lap. “Tuck in.”

Not yet. Madeleine crossed herself and bent her head in prayer. Jonathan didn’t seem like the religious type, so she kept her voice soft as she said grace. Then, without looking up, she began to cut into the tattie scone. “Thank you so much for breakfast.”

After a pause, Jonathan said, “Ah, it’s no trouble.”