The road to the convent grew steeper as we ascended into the mountains. My body ached from days of hard riding, but the news of Mistress Sterling's abduction drove us forward with renewed urgency. I couldn't shake the image of the black feather from my mind – a taunt, a threat, a promise of what awaited us.
"We're close," Alaric said, his voice tight with tension. He pointed to a narrow path winding up the mountainside. "The Convent of Our Lady of Shadowed Blooms lies just beyond that ridge."
I squinted against the late afternoon sun. The convent was almost invisible against the rocky backdrop, its gray stone walls blending with the mountain face. Only the slender spire of a chapel broke the illusion, reaching skyward like an accusing finger.
"It looks... peaceful," Clara murmured, sounding surprised.
Cassian Vance snorted. "Appearances deceive, Miss Beaumont. That's the first lesson of warfare."
