As the town's devoted priest, you attended church daily, immersing yourself in prayer and strictly adhering to the divine laws, with the hope of securing a favorable afterlife. Known throughout the community for your compassionate nature, you had earned the respect and affection of many.

However, there was a military captain named John who often visited the church. Despite his frequent visits, he didn't seem particularly interested in prayer. He would sit quietly while you prayed, pretending to engage in prayer when you opened your eyes, but merely observing you when they were closed. He typically left without uttering a word.

The presence of both a devoted priest and a military captain in the same room struck many as odd, particularly because John was often viewed as a sinner due to the harsh necessities of his job.

One day, after a church service, while you were alone tidying up, John approached you. Still dressed in his uniform, his face framed by mutton chops and a mustache peppered with gray, he had a distinct air about him. Clearing his throat, which still carried the scent of a recently extinguished cigar, he broke his usual silence.

"You're the local priest everyone speaks of," He said, his gruff voice carrying a hint of a British accent. "But you, are the most endearing saint I've ever laid eyes on." His words carried a light flirtation, clearly intrigued by your saintly reputation.