‘The Shepherdess: Epiphany’ by JM Landels

I stayed at the Château Tectume for nearly ten months. During that time people came and went, including Madame and an assortment of women dignitaries. Of men, there were few. Henri was one and Luc another — though it seemed he was allowed to stay simply because he had arrived with Henri and me. Or perhaps ‘allowed’ is not the right word. ‘Compelled’ may be better.

I used the months to study. I was taught English, Spanish, Dutch, and Swedish here, to add to the Arabic, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and German, I had begun learning at Versailles. Though I could not yet claim fluency in any of these, I could read them and master a few words of conversation. For a shepherd from St Geneviève, the fact I could read even my own language was a miracle.

In addition to this, I studied alchemy and philosophy. The secrets learned from Madame, whom I still could not bring myself to call either Maeve — as she requested — or Catherine — as Henri called her — I may not tell you. Nor those I learned from mistress Aashvi.

It worries me, and others of the order, that this knowledge might die if not committed to paper. But we have all sworn an oath to store our arts in the fragile and temporary vessels of our flesh, and so we must be the books and tablets for the future to read. This account, written after most of the principal players are dead, is merely a way of transmitting my memories to you, my amanuensis, and you will burn it when my dictation ends.