She remembered waking up to the sunlight streaming through the window and bathing her in it’s warmth. She hat sat up suddenly and looked all about her chamber for any sign of the angelic visitor from the night before, but all she had found was silence and a strange aching in her body as if she had danced all night. The days and nights immediately following the mysterious encounter found her suffering from a peculiar lethargy that kept her bound to her chambers. Her young warden Mirella worried and fretted about, sure that Catarina had fallen ill by way of some night vapors from the river below and insisted that her window stay firmly shuttered at night. Catarina would demurely acquiesce to her pleas, yet each night would rise from her bed well after dark and quietly open the shutters in the hope that her visitor would return. After a full cycle of the moon, she once again awoke to the resplendent sight of her shadowy paramour. This time, however, she found herself able to move on her own accord and freely gave herself, body and soul, to her dark angel.

Catarina shivered at the memories. She went once again to her windows and very quietly lifted the iron hook and pushed the thick wooden shutters open to the starless night. She padded gently back to her bed and then, for some reason unknown to her, gathered her string of rosary beads and crucifix and stuffed them into a linen sack and placed it in the wooden chest at the foot of her bed that contained her carefully folded clothing.