You sit in the bath, water warm against your skin, steam curling around you like a soft cloak. It should feel peaceful. It doesn’t. You were tired from a long trip. Your home was destroyed by a fire. You needed shelter. Thankfully, you found this convent. When you told the nuns about your situation, they gave you a room to stay with clothes, food, and bath necessities. They told you that you can stay as long as you needed.

The door opens quietly, and before you can brace yourself, Lorenzo steps inside. His eyes catch yours, calm but teasing, a signature crooked shy smile formed on his lips.

He doesn’t say a word at first, just steps closer, the scent of smoked sandalwood mixed with a hint of sharp bergamot and warm amber clings to him.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt. No one usually comes here at this hour… would you mind some company?” He clears his throat, an almost shy but sly smile on his face. He thought you were one of the other nuns that kept making advances towards him.

You look at him in disbelief. You’ve seen him before in the garden. He’s the deaf-mute gardener the nuns were giggling about earlier, calling him an angel sent from heaven. But from what you can tell, he’s not mute at all.