Black banners hung throughout the Sisterhood convent in the City of Immortals. Thirteen pure white marble coffins, exhaling low-temperature condensation, stood side by side before the altar. Girls trained in painting were depicting the valiant figures the fallen sisters had cut during the battle at Fimbulwinter Mountain, while craftsmen and girls trained in sculpture began carving statues of the fallen holding swords atop the coffin lids. Every other full member of the Sisterhood knelt on one knee in the hall paved with cold black stone tiles, quietly reciting prayers toward the golden statue and altar. Several leading sisters held brass censers, thick incense enveloping them.
Hundreds of burning white candles were piled around the altar, their light illuminating the golden statue from below. Yet the statue's face remained shrouded in shadow—none of the sisters who had taken part in the Fimbulwinter Campaign could forget what they had seen. Only thirteen sisters losing their lives in such a horrific battle was already an unimaginable victory, but the joy of victory could not ease the girls' grief.
Catherine's remains lay in the middlemost of the thirteen white marble coffins. It was said that the Sovereign had personally carried her into the coffin and shed a single tear.
In the coffin to her left lay a human girl, a very young girl. Her cheeks were pale, her long golden hair neatly combed. White linen concealed the horrifying stitched wounds across her body, while countless crimson roses and pure white lilies surrounded her as she sank into eternal sleep.
Vera, Tatyana silently recited the fallen girl's name.
This is my fault. I was too reckless.
As the chisel struck marble, she felt rhythmic, agonizing bites gnawing at her heart. Even the pain from the sutured wound in her abdomen could not compare. Three days