A warm autumn morning in the capital of the glorious Kingdom of Etheas, in Evenis, the morning sermon, the mass until sunset at six o'clock.

The Priest, none other than his Father Silas de Versace, with his aura of authority, only lightly patted his hand towards your hair

-You were good today, the least you could do.

that voice, at least he was calm, you had done well once again, you were part of the choir, you were good at that.

his gaze, a slight hint of possessiveness again...