He was but a simple priest, following the lord's teachings despite the world being wrecked with poverty and the plague; when life failed him, his faith did not. He had always supposed himself to be a man of God, and had dedicated himself to the chur...
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_ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟶𝟸; 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚎 _
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 many of God's worshipers had begun filing out of the pews, amiable smiles on their faces as they spoke with one another on the happenings of their days and their future plans. However, a young lady dressed in all black remained among the pews, downcast eyes staring at the altar.
Lucius glanced at the woman. Typically she didn't attend mass... had Matthias' apology to her made her more willing to attend?
Whilst he wasn't particularly interested in her, he had told himself, he was still a priest and thus he naturally worried for the well-being of his fellow worshipers. However, it was undeniable that there was something fragile about the woman that made him worry for her more than he had anticipated he would.
It was quite silly. He hadn't yet even spoken to her.
Perhaps it was because the biggest father figure in his life, the priest that had saved him from his previous family, had also died from the plague. He knew how terrible it could feel to outlive someone he loved--albeit, he had never blamed himself for their death.
Steeling himself, he approached her. "Miss? Are you alright?"
"Ah!" The woman exclaimed. "You're the priest from yesterday, no?"
A small, shy blush decorated his cheeks. It felt odd to have someone be so happy to remember him, and to make such a big display of it--typically, he was just one of the priests, which he wasn't discontent with... but he didn't take issue with feeling a bit special, either.
"Yes, I am," he said. "Thank you for being so kind to young Matthias. I'm afraid the children occupying this church still seem to be quite immature..."
"Oh, no, it was quite alright... he reminded me of my younger sibling." The bittersweet smile on her face was more than enough to tell what had happened to her brother. "Is he doing well? I hope so. It's gotten quite cold nowadays."
"Quite so. The children get quite rambunctious in the winter; they're simply so excited for the first snowfall... thanks to the gracious donations you've offered the church, we'll be able to make sure everyone lasts through the winter. And for that, I extend you my thanks."
"Ah..." The lady put a hand to her mouth, shyly covering her pursed lips. "There's no need for that. Isn't it a given that children should live long enough to become adults?"
Lucius' eyes became somewhat downcast; it was a thought that seemed so simple, so true, and yet he could recall many of the church's children whose health had faltered, or became victim to accidents or the harsh winter--sometimes, God was not merciful. Even to the young.
"... Of course." He gave a polite smile. "Would you like to meet the children? I'm sure Matthias would be glad in the knowledge you've attended mass today."
"Oh. You're being quite hospitable to me. Please don't misinterpret my attire; you do not need to accommodate me simply because I am mourning. We are all mourning, no?" The lady's (E/C) eyes trailed off, staring at the mahogany church pews as if she believed she was taking advantage of the priest's kindness. "I merely donated that money due to it having belonged to God in the first place. And it's alright if the children think I'm strange; I admit, my demeanor is abnormal."
He paused for a moment, mustering a polite smile. "I do not mean to burden you, miss."
"It is not your fault. You are a man of god, but I have done things that I can never repent for. In this form, you are pure and untouched; I wish for you to stay that way, and thus, I politely request you distance yourself from me."
Pure? Untouched? Such words were meant to be saved for the likes of angels and saints, not a mere man like Lucius. He couldn't believe she could utter such falsities so easily.
"Miss, I--"
"Your efforts are in vain."
The woman stood up and gave a polite bow to him, her hands folded in her lap, her expression completely blank despite the biting words she had just fed him. Her presence was frosty, like the winter chills that would soon fill the church's bowels.
He could do nothing but stand there and watch her leave, like a mere bystander in the conversation.
Being completely rejected like this was a foreign feeling, invading his system and making him feel sick to his stomach. What was he even trying to accomplish, with this fleeting curiosity?
_
The strange, invasive sickness that made his stomach ache and feel rotten had not subsided, even when the hour of dinner came. Once having never been one to waste food, now he sat there, idly pushing his spoon around in the bowl of soup.
"So you've finally come around, heh?" The upbeat, bubbly voice of one of the church's nuns, Amanda, pecked at his ears. She was a woman who clearly didn't belong, with perfectly groomed and curled blonde hair, blue eyes styled with expensive eyeshadow and mascara, and uncalloused hands that reflected her lifestyle.
Just a mere month ago, she had been living alongside the sinful aristocrats, enjoying feasts and balls whilst the "commoners" starved and their bodies littered the streets. After her father had disowned her, she had joined the church, and yet refused to give up her lifestyle.
Somehow, she still managed to divulge in gossip and petty arguments with the other nuns, that were slowly picking up her example and acting more and more immature.
"I have not," he sternly retorted. "I'm simply worried for a fellow worshipper of God."
"Right." She rolled her eyes, rudely resting her elbow on the table in order to place her head on her hand. "You're still a virgin, right? Maybe if you play your cards right--"
"Do not spout such idiocy!" He said, before instantly lowering his voice, trying not to cause a scene despite how offended he felt. "Unlike you, I'm simply trying to consider all of the information available before I make a choice. I'm not a petty gossip like you."
"A petty gossip, my word! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you disliked me, father~ oh my, I'm so distraught I think I've forgotten what I was going to tell you!"
A moment of silence passed. And then another. And another.
Forcing a laugh out, she looked at him weirdly, a drop of sweat rolling down her face. "D-Don't look at me like that. I was just joking... God, you're a stick in the mud. Now I know why you live in a church of all places."
With Lucius still refusing to speak, Amanda let out a sigh.
"Since you're so curious, I'll tell you. But everyone knows already, so it's weird that you need to ask. Yeah, people are saying she feels responsible for her family's death. Some say she gave her family the plague and was the only one to survive, others claim she murdered them all in cold blood--"
"That's enough," he said, cutting off her more useless gossip. "So, you're saying that her family all died from the plague besides her?"
She wore an unimpressed expression. "I mean, probably. Not that abnormal of a story! Oh, God, don't tell me you're sympathizing with her too, now?"
"Of course... not. I would never let my personal emotions interfere with the church."
"Right..." She replied, watching him stand up and leave, his soup bowl still untouched. She rolled her eyes, faced with a serious dilemma.
"How come all the hot guys here are either celibate or fucking crazy...?"
