Chapter 7
EVEN WHEN SHE was in the street, Johanna felt the eyes of Celine’s ghost on her. She heard that raspy voice You will never take the place that is rightfully mine, which chilled her to the core of her bones. Why had Brother Reginald thought this was the ghost of a common girl? That did not look like a common girl to her at all. Her hands were clean and unblemished and unscarred from manual work. Her clothes were rich, with little pearl shell buttons and embroidery that common people couldn’t afford.
She didn’t look like a ghost, she didn’t behave like a ghost. Yet she was not Celine, but someone’s magical minion.
Johanna clutched the basket and made her way down the streets.
She didn’t dare go back to the camp. The camp was full of Saarlanders who were unused to open displays
