Page 20 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

At first, I was paired with Astra, but as the afternoon went on, we all moved around, helping each other with one task or another.

Eventually, Estelle herself called me over to assist with another crate of plants.

By then, the sun was already setting in a blaze of gold and orange.

Most of the sisters had left to prepare dinner or wash up before evening prayers, leaving just Estelle and me in the garden, our hands buried in cool earth as we planted a bush of snow-white roses.

They smelled so divine that I closed my eyes with each inhale, letting their fragrance wash over me like silk. God, I adored the scent of roses… and here, everything smelled so pure, so bright. Even Estelle herself always smelled of roses, as if they were a part of her soul.

Her red hair glowed under the last rays of the sun, brilliant copper curls framing her serene face. She never wore a hood, always letting her hair fall free down her back with quiet pride.

I found myself watching her, curiosity blooming in my chest. We were nearly finished for the evening, and the garden was silent around us except for the song of crickets in the hedges.

“I… I hope it’s not rude to ask,” I began softly, brushing soil from my fingers, “but… I’d really love to know more about your story.”

Estelle paused, pressing the earth around the rosebush roots with delicate care.

From what I’d learned, she had been here for ten years already, fully accepting her monastic vows only four years ago.

She was thirty-five, but looking at her fresh, youthful face, I would have thought she was no older than eighteen.

“My story isn’t a happy one,” she said quietly after a moment. “And… well, no one who ends up here really has a happy story about why they came, you know?”

I swallowed, feeling a flicker of guilt. “I’m sorry if I brought up something painful. I didn’t mean to pry.”

She looked up at me with her gentle honey-colored eyes, filled with a peace that felt both comforting and impossibly distant. She shook her head and smiled faintly.

“No, no… there’s nothing wrong with asking, little one.

You’re still new here. You don’t know everyone’s stories yet.

It’s natural to want to understand the people you live with.

” She tucked a loose curl behind her ear, her fingers brushing the petals of a rose.

“It’s just… no one’s asked me in so long.

I suppose… I’ve almost forgotten how to tell it. ”

She gently placed the young rosebush into its hole, pressing the damp earth around the roots with her gloved hands. The buds were still tightly closed, shy and hidden for now, but soon they would bloom like all the flowers we planted today.

Estelle exhaled heavily, her breath catching in the cooling evening air.

“Men always treated me like… like a piece of meat,” she said softly, her voice trembling only at the edges.

“And… I just got tired of it. My ex… he was a sadist. He did… obscene things. He never understood the word no. He was terrible.”

She paused, scooping a handful of soil to cradle the stem of the rose upright. Her fingers shook slightly. “But I couldn’t leave. I didn’t earn my own money, and he… he realized he had full power over me.”

My chest tightened as I listened, hands frozen around the shovel handle.

“We had two children,” she continued in a faint voice.

“But… they were taken to an orphanage. I couldn’t take them with me when I left.

I… I knew they’d be better off in another family than with such a father and a lost mother like me.

It was the hardest decision of my life, but…

now I know they’re happier there, away from all of that. ”

She brushed away a tear before it could fall. “Yes, I’ve found myself again here… found faith in myself, in God… but they shouldn’t have had to suffer along my path to happiness. They should be free to build their own.”

I felt tears prickling at my eyes. “I understand… I’m so sorry men treated you that way…” I reached out and patted her knee gently, then turned back to the rosebush, tucking it into its nest of earth with careful strokes of my shovel.

She gave a hollow little laugh. “Men in general… they’re so-so,” she said, shrugging as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“And that you were with a girl… I understand you so well in that regard. Sometimes I think… it’s a pity I can’t feel anything for women.

Maybe I would have married long ago, you know?

Maybe even one of my friends… but we stopped talking ages ago.

He… he made me cut everyone off, until I was a recluse at home. ”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again. It was all I could say. Sorry that someone as bright as her had been broken down like that. Sorry she had been forced to surrender her life to a man’s violence. She didn’t deserve it. No one did.

Men… men never brought anything good to my life either.

I thought about the guys I encountered – their pompous flirting at nightclubs when I went out with classmates, their eyes scanning my body like they owned it, their words slurred with beer and ego.

What benefit was there for me in that? A few awkward minutes rubbing against someone else’s dick, feeling nothing but disgust?

It never delighted me. It never made me feel safe or seen.

For me, trust was everything. That’s why I fell for her… my girlfriend back then. God, I loved her so much. The first person I ever felt safe with, the first who made me believe love could be beautiful.

I got carried away with my thoughts again. But there was no escaping the past. Not here. Not tonight, under the fading golden sky, with roses blooming around us and memories blooming inside me, painful and tender all at once.

“What are you thinking about, dear?” Estelle asked softly. Despite the heaviness of what she had just shared, her honey-gold eyes still shone with a gentle joy under the dimming sky.

I sighed, leaning on the shovel handle, looking at the half-buried rosebush between us.

“Just… about the past. About my ex-girlfriend… about men in general.” I hesitated, then shook my head.

“I never liked them, honestly. Their disgusting behavior. I always wondered… do they even like women at all? Or is it just… ugh. I dunno. It’s all so… disgusting, I guess.”

She gave a small, knowing laugh. “Yeah… our opinions come together here.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, streaked faintly with earth.

“At first, of course, my husband was a cute little bunny. Kind, attentive… but then…” Her eyes darkened as she gazed at the ground.

“Then he started showing who he really was… once the doors were closed and there was no one to hear. No one to help. And by then, there was no escape.”

The sadness in her voice coiled around my heart like vines tightening. I didn’t know what to say. Words felt so small in the face of pain like that.

But then she smiled softly again, standing up and brushing her apron clean.

She opened her arms slightly and leaned forward, hugging me.

I hugged her back, careful not to press against the gloves still caked with soil, so it turned into an awkward half-hug or maybe a remote hug, I thought with a small giggle.

She laughed too, and the sound felt like rose petals brushing against my chest.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath warm against my hair. “Thank you for sharing, and for listening… dear.”

“Yeah… thank you too…” I murmured, suddenly shy, my cheeks warm despite the cooling twilight.

Then she pulled away and clapped her hands lightly. “The sun’s almost down, damn! Come on, let’s hurry up or dinner won’t wait for us!”

We laughed together as we finished planting the last thirty rose bushes, burying their roots under the darkening sky. The scent of earth and roses filled the garden like a prayer.

Just as we pressed the final rose into its place, Astra emerged from the garden path, her curly hair pinned up with a silver comb, her eyes twinkling in the dusky light.

“Good evening, my beautiful sisters,” she called out in her musical voice. “Dinner is ready. Come join us, before it gets cold. The table is set for our little family.”

I smiled at her words – our little family – and looked back at Estelle, who wiped sweat from her brow and smiled back at me with tired but glowing eyes.

Family… yes. Even if life had torn us apart in so many ways, here, among the roses and the quiet prayers of dusk, I felt it too.

I came back to my room after midnight. Dinner with the sisters had stretched long into the evening filled with soft chatter, shared jokes, and quiet moments of prayer.

Then we washed at the hot springs, the steam curling around our naked bodies like veils of warm mist, before choir rehearsal swept us into hymns for the weekend’s holiday celebrations.

Parishioners would come from nearby towns to celebrate, and we wanted everything to be perfect.

When I finally opened the door, moonlight spilled across my room in silver beams. The gift in the black box with its golden border still lay untouched on my bed. But this time, a small shape slept curled up beside it.

The white cat.

He raised his head the moment I entered, blinking sleepy green eyes that glowed faintly in the dark. With a low meow, he stretched, arching his back high before flopping sideways to rub his body along the mysterious box, scratching his back and sides against it with little grunts of satisfaction.

“Hello, handsome…” I whispered, closing the door quietly behind me. “And where did you run off to that morning…? You scared me, you know.”