'I suppose it isn't the usual thing to offer here. But once in a while you need a nip of something' the nun said softly. She took a ladylike sip and hid it close to her, observing Constance from the corner of her eye. Constance didn't know what to think. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. She looked back at the window, feeling the gloom settle over her once more.
Unknown to her, the lady was acting very strange. She started inspecting her flask and then looking around the room in apparent interest. But her notice was always on the girl beside her. She took another few sips and Constance looked up to watch her in the window's reflection. She was puzzled. She buried her face in the cushion once again. A minute later she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and she turned to hear the lady concernedly ask if she was alright. Constance nodded and lowered her eyes to look at the flask again. It was a neat rectangle made of a shining metal. The lady's slender white fingers were clasped lightly around it. On one hand lay a ring she'd never seen the likes of before, a solid silver band much like a wedding ring but with a curious stone set in the middle, an oval purple stone. She'd never seen a stone that colour before. Her eyes were drawn to the pretty colour, not knowing that she was staring at her downfall. The lady noticed and displayed it for her convenience.
'Where did you get it from?'
'It was a gift' replied the lady.
'It's so pretty' marvelled the girl.
The lady smiled nonchalantly in response. 'Would you like to try it?'
'Oh! Yes please.'
The lady slipped it off and gave it to Constance to try on. It fitted perfectly. The girl was thrilled to see such a pretty ring on her fair hand. She admired it in the fading light. The lady smiled and offered her the flask again. Constance hesitated.
'It's just a little Malmsey wine' assured the lady.
Constance wasn't sure that she should. 'I'd feel a bit guilty having some of it here.'
'You'll get over that soon enough' the lady assured her. Her arm circled Constance and the hand in front of her was holding the flask.
'Just a sip won't hurt' she whispered into her ear. 'There's nothing to be afraid of.' Constance shivered at the voice guiding her further down temptation. But nothing could happen with one sip, surely? She took the proffered flask and raised it to her lips, her hands trembling slightly, though she couldn't understand why. The lady gently closed her fingers over hers and waited for Constance to drink. The girl took a deep breath and drank a deep draught, the wine warming her through. It had a curious bitter aftertaste but she paid it no heed. Soon enough she was feeling the desired effect of being sleepy, closing her eyes as the numbness took its time to steal to her feet. The sound of the rain seemed like it was slowly fading. She opened her eyes to see the lady jump to her feet and look out of the window.
'Is d'Artagnan there?' she asked, not realising how quiet her voice sounded.
'He's not coming' replied her companion. Constance barely heard, still waiting for a sign of him, but nothing.
Oh! If only she'd watched at the window, not for what was outside but what was happening right beside her. The second she had looked away, the lady had opened that beautiful stone in her ring and emptied out the contents into her flask, an indistinct white powder. How was Constance to know what danger that sip would do?