However, there are those who deserve to die but who have not yet encountered the means to do so—we help them on their way.

This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours.

The maids in my village talked of falling in love with a man at first sight. That has always seemed naught but foolishness to me. Until I enter Sister Serafina's workshop. It is unlike anything I have ever seen, full of strange sights and smells, and I tumble headlong into love.

I stare at him coldly. "I do not care for needlework." I pause. "Unless it involves the base of the skull.

He does not start guiltily, as he should, but frowns in annoyance. "Who are you?" I slip my hand through the slit of my overskirt, and my fingers close around the hard wood of the crossbow tiller. "Vengeance," I say softly.

In the distance a wolf howls. Let it come, I think. Beast will most likely simply howl back, and the creature will either turn tail and run or fall into line behind him, like the rest of us have.