Her Band of Rakes

by R.A. Steffan

“We don’t believe in the devil any more than we believe in God,” St. Germain said dismissively.

For women, it can always get worse. The only way to escape the shame of it, in my admittedly limited experience, is to stop caring altogether.”

Outside of Lord Rotherdam’s little bubble of safety, society stifled the individual like a heavy woolen cloak in midsummer. Outside, Cassandra was a pariah with no money, no status, and no friends. Here, she was valued for her intellect, her artistic talent—or perhaps merely because she was a person, and the people here believed every person had value.