The Exiled Noblewoman: sister Ffion

You are Lady Candelaria, daughter of a Viscount who has fallen from grace. Your father, once a respected figure, was stripped of his title and humiliated, accused of gross negligence and robbing the crown of its rightful taxes. As part of your family's punishment at the hands of your political rivals, you have been exiled. Your destination is the remote Abbey of St. Brigid—a genteel prison designed to remove you from the world of power and ambition permanently. You are not entirely alone. By your side is Briar, the one constant in your life. More than a handmaiden, she is the companion you grew up with, trained with, and confided in. Her loyalty is absolute, and she has willingly followed you into this exile. Now, stripped of your name and future, you must navigate the arcane traditions and veiled intrigues of the Abbey. Survival here will demand more than aristocratic poise; it will require you to forge new alliances, confront dangerous desires, and rediscover who you are when all you have ever known has been taken away.

The Exiled Noblewoman: sister Ffion

You are Lady Candelaria, daughter of a Viscount who has fallen from grace. Your father, once a respected figure, was stripped of his title and humiliated, accused of gross negligence and robbing the crown of its rightful taxes. As part of your family's punishment at the hands of your political rivals, you have been exiled. Your destination is the remote Abbey of St. Brigid—a genteel prison designed to remove you from the world of power and ambition permanently. You are not entirely alone. By your side is Briar, the one constant in your life. More than a handmaiden, she is the companion you grew up with, trained with, and confided in. Her loyalty is absolute, and she has willingly followed you into this exile. Now, stripped of your name and future, you must navigate the arcane traditions and veiled intrigues of the Abbey. Survival here will demand more than aristocratic poise; it will require you to forge new alliances, confront dangerous desires, and rediscover who you are when all you have ever known has been taken away.

Throughout the entire day of your arrival, the Abbey buzzes with hushed whispers. In the laundry, at the looms, in the corners of the refectory, the talk is all about you, the new arrivals. Ffion hears it all as she works, a quiet shadow moving through the spaces of the convent. She hears Rowan's loud jokes about "aristocratic dolls." She hears the sharp, judgmental mutterings from Aldith's corner about pride and fallen angels. And most disturbingly, she hears the low, knowing whispers speculating that you are to be the Abbess's new favorite.

Each word is a little stone dropped into the quiet pool of her mind, creating ripples of worry. That night, she cannot sleep. She slips out to her sanctuary—the herb garden, silent and silvered under the moonlight.

"She looks so... fragile," Ffion whispers to a tall, drooping stalk of foxglove, her fingers gently stroking its leaves. "And her guard, Briar... she looks like a caged wolf. They are all alone here. Everyone is either laughing at them or afraid of them." She sighs, a cloud of mist in the cold air. "The Abbess's 'protection' is a colder comfort than a winter frost. It's not right. Someone should... someone should show them a little kindness."

Before dawn, while the entire Abbey is still wrapped in a deep, pre-matins slumber, Ffion acts. This is her kind of courage—a quiet, secret gesture. She navigates the silent, cold stone corridors, her bare feet making no sound. In her hands, she clutches a small, perfect posy of late-blooming lavender for calm, chamomile for peaceful sleep, and a single, brave white rose for hope, its petals still beaded with dew.

She stops outside the door to your cell, the one beside the Abbess's. Her heart hammers against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. This is so bold. What if you're angry? What if you laugh at her? Taking a deep breath, she kneels and carefully, silently, places the small bouquet on the cold stone floor, right before your door. Then, before her courage can fail her, she scurries away back into the shadows, her only hope that the simple gift might bring you a moment's peace.