“Again,” Pierre paced between her bed and the table. In his outstretched hands, he had his bible open, the pages looking like they were spilling over his fingers. He stopped to raise a brow at Maud expectantly.

  She stiffened. She was standing beside the table, wishing that she could lean back on it or sit in one of the chairs. Pierre said that it was better for her to stand when reciting from memory because it leaves her undistracted. That was a lie, if ever she heard one.

  She was distracted by his pacing, by the smell of the smoking hearth that needed to be lit, by the table she should have washed after cutting up the meat and vegetables for dinner. Instead, she was standing like a soldier on guard with her eyes on the ceiling for inspiration or an escape, whichever came first. No matter how hard she looked at the ceiling, it just didn’t help her to think of what came next.

  She went over it in her head before reciting out loud, “The first commandment is ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.’”

  Pierre nodded as he paced.

  Maud tried to see if he looked like he approved or not. He wasn’t like Draka. She never seemed to know what Pierre was thinking or feeling. Certainly not when he was proud or that she had gotten something right. At least Draka would let her know she got it right.

  “The second commandment is ‘Thou shalt…” What is it? Murder? No, that one comes later. Steal…no, maybe it’s, “…honor thy mother and thy father that thy days may long be…’”

  Pierre cut her off, “Father first, then mother. And no! You skipped three of them.” He turned to her with a slap of the book against his leg. “Think, Miss Maudeline. What would come after remembering there are no other gods?”

  She winced, no longer staring at the beams over her head. “Graven images?”

  “Yes!” a hint of a smile pierced the urgency and frustration in his voice. “Now, properly.”

  “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of anything that is in above heaven…”

  “Heaven above. Again.”

  Maud’s shoulders sank. She wanted to cry. She had spent the entire night after Draka left sitting in the dim light of the hearth trying to memorize the commandments word for word. Nothing she did seemed right. If it wasn’t reciting the wrong commandment, it was reciting the commandment wrongly.

  “The second commandment is: Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above,” She shot Pierre a glare, though his nose was so deep into his bible that he didn’t seem to notice, “or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.”

  Pierre hummed slight approval. Her jaw tightened. She drew in a breath to begin the next commandment. Each one seemed to take a dozen tries to get it right, but eventually she finished reciting each. She didn’t know exactly what she was hoping for when she got it right, but Pierre’s half-bored hum was not it.

  “Good,” he slapped the bible closed and set it on the table. Maud waited. A smile, perhaps. Maybe a nudge on the shoulder or a pat on the back, something to make her feel like she had done something right. Anything. “Now,” Pierre slid a paper to in front of her with one hand and an inkwell with the other. “Write them out.”

  “No,” Maud lifted her chin. “I already did this. I have other things to do.” Anything else, really.

  “Oh?” Pierre half turned and lifted a leg to set himself on the edge of the table with crossed arms. For the first time, Maud noticed that he wasn’t much older than her. Take off the red skull cap that barely covered the back of his head, shave the scraggly beard, and he had barely a laugh line. That meant he wasn’t her elder. Just more educated. If she didn’t think Draka would be upset, she would have thumped the arrogant grin from his face in that moment. “What could possibly be more important than this?”

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  “Well, running two houses, for one,” Maud tossed his cap and shoved him from the edge of the table. He fumbled for it as brown curls draped over his face while she dusted the table with her apron. “Or would you rather my mother and I starve because I spent all my time memorizing stupid words!” She stomped at him. She was ready to toss him like a little brother.

  “Stupid words?” Pierre stomped back at her. He was barely able to lift the bible before her hand swept it off the table. “These are the words of the Almighty!”

  “They are the words of Moses!” Maud jabbed a finger at him, “And they’re in the wrong order! God first, then what? A day?”

  “Sabbath,” Pierre corrected.

  Maud stomped and looked to the ceiling with a roar of frustration. “No-plowing-body calls anything that!” She grabbed a cloth only so she could throw it at him. “These are God’s laws, then why is murder not the first? Is that not the worst of sins—to kill someone? It’s last—no, coveting is last. And what does that mean? To want something they have but you don’t? Like peace of mind?” She threw another cloth.

  “Yes!” Pierre rushed her. She leaned back from his pointing finger, “They are God’s laws. Sins. All sins.” He stepped back from her, slapping his cap against his leg and straightening out the creases in pinches. Calmly, he said, “The order is as it is written and we remember them that way not because one is more important or higher value than the other but because order, in and of itself, is important. Each has purpose higher than you or me and that is why we remember them!” He raised his chin as he placed the cap back on his head to stare her down. Somehow, he looked taller than her.

  “We remember that He is the Alpha and Omega, the one true God, because we must always know that we are the insignificant ones graced into life by another. We make no images or idols of God because it would only encourage our arrogance and sense of entitlement, like everyone who thought they were allowed to attack your family because they were from here of all places. We remember the Sabbath and stay our chores because God rested on the seventh day, so why can’t we? It is the one day when you should rest and reflect so you don’t lose your temper on someone who is trying to turn you into a proper Lady!”

  Maud’s eyes went wide. She started to ask what he meant, but Pierre stepped in closer. “Why do you think we are to honor our fathers and mothers? Do you think it is because they plowed and carried you for a few months. A day of pain as a result of a few seconds of pleasure nine months earlier? It is because they are to teach you how to live and you are to listen,” Pierre sounded like he was pleading with her. Then, he cocked his head at her like a bird. “Which you never seem to do. Where are you right now?”

  Maud blinked at him. “Lady?” Was all she could get out.

  He nodded. “Yes. Now, listen, I’m on a roll right now and you’re distracting me from my point. Now, where was I?”

  “What does that mean?”

  Pierre held up a finger, “Right—all of the commandments are the basis of law, the first pillars of civilization and, under God, they are all equal. A murderer is the same as a thief that is the same as an adulterer that is the same as an idolator that is the same as…”

  She was caught, blindsided by the idea. Her, a Lady? No, a proper Lady. What does that mean?

  “Miss Maudeline,” Pierre brought her back to him with a squeeze of her arm. He looked deep into her eyes, deeper than ever before, as he said, “There are reasons for these lessons. Now, write the commandments verbatim. You must know them perfectly before we go on. If it gets too late, I will send for helpers to handle your chores.”

  “Am I..?”

  “Still not doing as you were instructed?” Pierre pointed. “Yes.” He held the quill for her to grab it. “Start with the first verse of the chapter. ‘And God…’”

  “…Spake all these words, saying,’” Maud began writing as she recited. “‘I am the Lord, thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.’”