Free Selfish is the Heart by Megan Hart

novitiates do, and most have two. It can be very lonely at night.”
    Annalise forced her groan into silence and followed Tansy down another set of halls, down some stairs, and through a few sets of doors. She tried keeping track but knew she’d be unable.
    “We have a good room,” Tansy said. “It’s at the end of the hall, away from the ones who stay up late making merry when they should be better served sleeping or studying.”
    Annalise had an idea of which novitiates that might be. She paused outside the door Tansy had opened. “Are there rules against making merry?”
    “Not . . . exactly.”
    “But there are rules?”
    “Of course. Every place needs rules.”
    Mother Deliberata hadn’t mentioned them. “What are they?”
    Tansy looked over her shoulder as she entered the room and Annalise followed. The other girl perched on the edge of a narrow bed made up with crisp, plain linens. Two others just like it, but bare of sheets and blankets, lined the other walls. Head to head or foot to foot, if all three were occupied. Annalise held back a grimace and sat on the bed across the room, against the opposite wall.
    “Oh . . . simply that . . . well, we must at all times behave with decorum and represent ourselves as though we’d already taken our vows. It’s not a rule, I suppose. More an expectation. And we must attend the studies we’re assigned, of course, else we’ll never learn enough to be ready for our vows. And we must not leave the grounds of the Motherhouse without permission from a Mother-in-Service. Some are granted leave to go into town, but I’ve never asked.”
    “What might one find in town that one doesn’t find here?”
    Tansy’s cheeks pinked. “Oh . . . well, if one has coin to spend, one might find all manner of amusements. Or company.”
    “Male company? I suppose there must indeed be a fair lack of that around here.” She thought of the dark-haired man, and her smile faded. Of everything she’d imagined about the Order of Solace, this description didn’t fit. “It sounds like the worst years of boarding school. Worse than that, for school ends and service to the Order doesn’t.”
    “One might leave the Order, if one chooses, Annalise. And of course once you’re assigned a patron . . .” Tansy trailed off wistfully. “Well, all manner of things might happen then.”
    “Indeed.” Annalise bit back further response. If she had her way, she’d never be assigned a patron. Then again, did she wish to spend the rest of her life face to toe with others?
    She’d imagined a quiet life of learning and perhaps prayer—dull, to be certain, but bearable. A few years of it while she waited to be past the age where marriage was a necessity and not a luxury. What Tansy was describing was not at all appealing.
    “I’d thought myself too old to need schooling,” Annalise murmured with a sigh and looked ’round the room, noting that despite the bare block walls and stark furnishings, it wasn’t entirely uncozy.
    Tansy’s father’s money had made a difference. Subtle but not invisible. A carpet for the wooden floor, heavy drapes at the window. A rack of gowns, all of similar cut and color, but in fine fabric.
    “One is never too old for schooling,” Tansy said.
    Annalise stopped cataloging the room’s contents long enough to give Tansy a look. “It would seem I came unprepared for my term here.”
    Tansy’s laughter was like the chirp of a bird in its nest. “Everyone does, I think! When I first arrived, my eyes were so wide I was fair certain I’d never close them.”
    “How long have you been here, Tansy?”
    “Five years.” She ticked them off on her fingers quickly, then closed them tight into her fist and gave Annalise a somewhat defensive look. “But I was very young when I arrived, you see. There was much to learn. Not everyone who arrives here requires the same training. You’ll find out tomorrow when you’re tested.”
    “Will I?” Annalise wasn’t