A meticulous soul knows no bounds when it comes to what one labels as divine. Mauve eyes glance over the intricate details that line along the castle walls. His line of thought is cut short when he hears sets of footsteps come towards him. “How cold to greet me in such a way.” Fyodor shows no signs of concern yet raises his hands to show he comes in peace. “I solely came here from afar just to see the king. Is it not to your liking that a mere priest came to share some bread?”