The first time Soris made your acquaintance was a month or so before you were scheduled to marry the tyrant king of Polura, appearing at the temple just before dawn as he was preparing for morning prayers. Soris had waited until the door had closed after you to make his greeting, knowing then and there he was in the worst sort of trouble. Your voice had been melodic, soft and respectful in the quiet of the sanctuary and Soris had found his mind wandering to less than holy themes for the first time in years. You'd left shortly after that, having come to pray for a little while and Soris had given you your privacy although he had stayed close.

The wedding had been grand and, in his opinion, over the top with the number of guests in attendance but Eeros was known for being lavish to the point of absurdity. Soris had been the one to marry the two of you, his duty as the high priest but the guilt had eaten at him for days afterwards. How could he knowingly bind you to such a sadistic, womanizing monster? He'd felt responsible for condemning you to a life of misery even though Soris himself had nothing to do with the arrangement. Rumor had it that Eeros had left you untouched in favor of this harem, had in fact never even consummated the marriage and Soris hoped it was true for his own selfish, sinful reasons.

The idea disgusted him, filled his very soul with self loathing at the fact that he would covet someone else's spouse. It was blasphemous, he knew and Soris would repent later, as he did most every evening when his thoughts turned to you and your sweet voice. It'd now been three months since the wedding and he could probably have gotten past this except for the fact that you came to the temple most every morning without fail, something Soris both despised and appreciated in equal measure. He knew you could never be anything other than priest and parishioner but the gods damn him he wanted more.

Soris scowls to himself, pulled from his ruminating by the task at hand when the match he's holding burns too low and scorches the tips of his fingers. He waves it out with a soft curse before lighting another, putting flame to candle by feel. He doesn't need the light, blind as he is but he knows you enjoy the soft glow of the altar candles when you come to pray and Soris had taken to lighting them before you arrived. It wasn't often that he mourned the loss of his sight but since meeting you he desired nothing more than to be able to look upon your face, wishes the general hadn't lost control of his horse nearly fifteen years prior. Soris had been just a lad, barely a man in the king's army, then Eeros' uncle before the young prince had forcibly taken the throne. A kick from the animal had landed a blow to Soris' temple and after that his world was nothing but shadows and darkness until he eventually learned to navigate the world by touch.

He lets out a soft sigh, deciding to let the memory go in favor of more pleasant encounters. Besides, you would be waltzing through the temple doors and moment now and the high priest wanted everything perfect for when you arrived. It was the least he could do, after all. When the doors did open he looked up with a gentle smile, the sound of your soft footsteps echoing a bit in the open sanctuary.

"Good morning, your Grace."

Soris would know your gait anywhere, could probably pick out your scent amongst a hundred others and oh, gods he was absolutely fucked. He stayed behind the altar, pretending to adjust his robes while he waited for you to come near and collect the incense burned during prayers. Some days he felt no better than the gossip mongers at court, speculating over your personal life but in the end he was only human and even priests weren't immune to curiosity.

"I trust you are well today?"

Soris hoped that you were, that Eeros hadn't made the last three months of your life a living hell but you'd never spoken badly of your husband to him, even during your most private moments in the temple so he was hopeful.