A knot squeezed the princes’ stomach hard, anxiety setting in as they rode to the boutique to fetch their confirmation robe. The only thing that had eased the little lord's nerves was the presence of their new friend, Quinn. She rode beside them, playing with Oden’s little stuffed toy, while humming softly. 

“Odie, when we get home can we play ‘fight the monsters’ again?” she asked, looking towards the prince. 

Oden looked back at her, wondering just how it was that she could see them through those bandages that covered her eyes. “That sounds like a fun game, how do you play?”

“You don’t know? But you taught it to me Odie,” confusion and disappointment mixed together in her sweet little voice.

“I did?” Oden tilted their head, thinking hard to try and remember when they had ever played such a game.

“Perhaps a less intensive game would be for the best,” Nioto recommended, “I could teach you children a board game, or we could play with cards?”

Quinn frowned and puffed out her cheeks, “but I wanna play outside.”

“I know, sweetie, but little Oden will probably be sleepy after church, love.” 

Oden shook their head, “I wouldn’t mind playing outside,” they couldn’t remember the last time they had gotten to play outdoors, so the prospect of playing with their new friend gave them something to look forward to.

Sighing, Nioto rubbed her temples with a perturbed frown, “if the weather is nice, then you can both play in the garden tomorrow, okay sweeties?”

“Okie,” the two replied in unison.

As they pulled up to the boutique, Nioto instructed Quinn to wait inside the limo and guided Oden into the shop. The little bell chimed as they walked through the door, drawing the attention of the old clothier, “Welcome to,” his face went sour as he interrupted his greeting, “oh, it’s you.”

“Is the gown complete?” Nioto’s tone matched the foulness of the shop owner's own attitude. 

“Junior!” he called his son and waited a moment before summoning him again, “Junior get down here!” 

“I’m right here, father,” the boy stepped into the room from the back with a yawn.

The older Josiah pointed to the prince while staring down his son, “where’s the princes’ gown? You finished making those alterations I told you about, or did you stay up all night sewing dresses again?”

Rolling his eyes, the younger Josiah returned to the back room only to emerge once more with the finished garment, “it’s done,” he yawned, “exactly how you told me.” He presented the gown to his father, who inspected it closely.

His brow furrowed and mouth contorted into a grimace, “what the hell is this?” he turned the gown back towards the young boy, “a flower? You weren’t supposed to embroider the damn thing with a flower!”

He simply shrugged and walked away saying, “I’m sure the prince will like it, besides it’s small enough no one else will notice.”

“It matters not, just hand over the gown,” Nioto was exasperated, so long as the job was done, she did not care.

With a huff, the old Josiah handed over the gown and glowered at the woman. “We’ve completed your order, now please pay sir.” 

Nioto cocked her brow, her nostrils flared, a vein became visible on her forehead, “what did you just say?”

“I am asking for you to pay the full price as promised,” he answered indignantly, “you only paid half, I need the rest of the payment.”

“I must have misheard you,” she pulled a small satchel from her purse, “this is the amount we discussed."

"Pleasure doing business with you," with the money in his hands he found it easier to grovel, "should his Majesty require a tailor again, remember we here at Jojo's boutique pride ourselves on our quality service."

Turning, Nioto scoffed, "I am sure you do," eager to leave, she nearly forgot Oden who had stood dazzled by their favorite dress once again. "Come along love."

"Can you make me a dress like this one?" The prince pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

"Sweetie, your father would probably behead me were I to dress you up like that," she took them by the hand, leading them to the door.

"Why can't I have a pretty dress though?"

With a heavy sigh, the caretaker thought hard on how to answer them, trying to find a middle ground between the kings and her own feelings, "if you still want a dress like that by your twelfth birthday, then I will make you one."

"That's years away though," they whined, "can't it be sooner?"

"We'll talk about this after your confirmation, okay sweetie?" Oden simply nodded, their eyes a little wet, "aw love, don't cry. Time will fly by, I'm sure of it." The little prince nodded once more, following Nioto out the shop.

Stepping outside, Nioto positioned herself in front of Oden as a man stood, leering into the window of the limousine. He pressed his face to the tinted windows, trying to see inside. "You there, back away from the vehicle!" Nioto demanded with a mighty voice. Without a word the man stepped back, flashing a ghastly grin before walking away. 

Her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum, Nioto clung tightly to the prince's hand as she reached behind her apron to retrieve something she had hidden there. However, the man disappeared into the crowd and slowly the tension eased as her heart rate returned to normal. 

"You're holding too tightly, Nioto," her little master complained, and she released his hand for a moment, "who was that man?"

"I do not know sweetie," she ushered them into the limo, gently but firmly guiding them, "let us hurry and leave this place." 

The ride to the church was short, before they had realized it, they were there, the limo driving up to the church steps, Nioto leading both Oden and Quinn out the car and up those steps, It was time. A deep foreboding feeling pressed on Oden, as if a blanket of lead were laid over their body, they took each step slowly while the eyes of the public fell on them. A cacophony of whispers rolled over the child, forcing them to retreat into Nioto’s side. She reassured the prince with a pat on the head and an earnest smile, continuing to guide them inside the great cathedral, where their father stood in wait by the door.

He had been speaking to a priest, his face stuck in his permanent scowl as they spoke quietly with each other, though as they got closer to him, Oden could barely make out their conversation. “I have given you your precious tithes, if you continue to press this issue then you will see no further funding for your little organization.”

“Please don’t mistake my intentions sire, I mean this only for the good of the child,” the priest spoke through a toothy grin.

“Think of your own good, angering me will bring you nothing but trouble,” the king snarled.

The priest raised his hands, taking a step back and his smile widened, “I would never wish to anger the crown. I will give you time to think about our offer.”

  Breaking their line of tension, Nioto greeted the king, “your highness, we are here.”

“I can see that,” he sighed turning to her, “and I can see you brought that child with you as well,” his eyes stared daggers into the little girl.

“She wanted to come and support the prince, is there a problem?” Quinn cowered behind her mother as she defended her child's presence.

With a grunt and a groan, the king dismissed her, “take the boy to finish preparing, and watch him closely.”

“Yes, your majesty,” with a bow Nioto did as he instructed, guiding Oden in the direction of a deacon and two altar boys. “Deacon Thomas, if I am not mistaken?”

“Yes, yes,” he dismissed her greeting, “it is good to see the young majesty has arrived safely.”  

Nioto tilted her head, “is there a problem?”

He shook his head, “we are short staffed as of late. A couple Shepherds meant to provide protection for the prince have seemingly gone missing,” Deacon Thomas leaned closer speaking in a whisper, “keep this between us, but I was worried this could be a sign of foul play. I suggested we delay things, but the king seems insistent that we go through with the ceremony.” 

Nioto nodded, her brows furrowed, and placed her hand on the prince's head, “if the church cannot provide adequate protection then perhaps it would be best I do not leave his side.”

Overhearing their conversation, a second priest stepped in, “Let us not get ahead of ourselves, he will need to change into his robes, you can go and sit down now, I’ll take him from here,” he waved his hands dismissing Nioto.

“I said I will not be leaving the princes’ side,” she said resolutely.

He gave a fake glassy smile, “very well,” he turned away, “Deacon Thomas, lead them to the changing room.”

The deacon nodded and motioned for the others to follow, “you too boys, you will be assisting the prince,” he instructed the two altar boys standing beside him.

Oden and Quinn clung closely to Niotos' side as they followed the three church members down a narrow hall. As they walked, Oden noticed that one of the altar boys had walked with a limp that slowed his pace, nearly causing the two to collide. 

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” the deacon scolded him, “don’t bother the prince.” 

“Sorry,” the boy hung his head low, his silver hair peeking out from underneath his hood. For a second, Oden had thought they recognized the boy, but they could not remember where it was they knew them from. This sense of familiarity had compelled Oden to get closer to him, to reach out and tug on the boy's robe, drawing his gaze back to him. His eyes were sad, sunken in with dark bags underneath, but most peculiarly, they were two different colors. Oden’s face lit up for a moment as the two looked at each other. The altar boy, realizing their face was visible to the prince, grimaced, quickly turning away and pulling their hood over their eyes. 

Not deterred by their reaction, or perhaps too naive to understand the social cue, Oden leaned over and whispered, “you were that girl outside the cake store, weren’t you?” They didn’t answer and so Oden asked another question, “what are you doing here though, why are you dressed like a boy?”

“Don’t talk to me,” she whispered back, “they’ll find me out.”

“I’m sorry I dropped the bonbons, I wanted to give you them, but they fell when you ran away,” Oden apologized. 

“It’s okay… just please, I can’t get caught,” she pleaded for Oden to leave her alone and so the prince remained quiet till they reached a changing room.

“Step inside, little sire, you can change in here,” the deacon held a door open for the prince. Nioto stepped forward and he stopped her, “just the prince, it wouldn’t be decent for a woman to be present.”

“Then it would also not be decent for an old man,” she argued, “if I am to stay out here, then so are you.”

He frowned, “but I am needed to assist the prince in preparing,” he feigned a soured voice, “I only wish to help serve his highness.”

“The boys can help,” Nioto pointed to the two, “but you will remain here with me.”

Veins visibly throbbing in his forehead, the deacon relented, “very well, then our boys shall help the prince in my stead.” The two ‘altar boys’ stood there in shock for a moment, unsure what to do, trying the patience of the church official, “go on and get in there, we haven’t all day!”

 

***

This was not the plan, this was not where she was meant to be, despite her and Reks’ best efforts, they found themselves in a room with the prince, their target the deacon on the other side of the door. Loche was going to kill them for sure, they could not have strayed any further from the plan. No, he wouldn’t kill her, she knew that for sure. No, what Loche had planned should she fail was far worse than death. 

How did it come to this then? The plan was so simple, or at least she thought it was. It started when they entered that damn church, of course that’s where it started, nothing good comes from stepping foot in a church. They arrived early in the morning, shortly after leaving Josiah’s shop, and slipped through the front door, blending perfectly with a crowd of parishioners entering for the early morning mass.

"All we gotta do is find the Deacon," Reks explained in a whisper, "once he collects tithes, he'll deposited them and we'll know both where he keeps the key and the coffers"

It sounded easy enough, at least when spelled out so plainly to her, but she couldn't shake the feeling things would not go smoothly. Perhaps it was the uneasy inhuman glare of the saints that adorned the walls of the sanctuary, vigilant and unrelenting in their watch, that filled her with anxiety. She shrunk beside Reks, hiding her face in his side.

"What's wrong Silver? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now?" She shook her head and held onto his robe tightly, "hey don't worry, everything is gonna work out fine," he reassured her, his confident and soothing tone easing her nerves ever so slightly. 

Her momentary peace of mind was snapped by the commanding bark of a passing priest, “altar boys, stop lazing about and get to work!” 

“Yes father, that’s our mistake,” Reks kowtowed, “we’re just new to the cathedral and didn’t know where to go is all.”

“New to the cathedral? So, the Shepherds approved our request. It is good to see boys fresh from the camps, we’ll need all the help we can get today,” he mused, “very well then, come along and I will put you to task.”

“Yes, father,” Reks held his head low, motioning for the girl to do the same.

The priest led the two away from the main sanctuary and down a hall, to a storage room of sorts, where he fished a key ring from out his pocket and fiddled with it till he found the right key. The girl paid close attention to the color and shape of the key, in hopes it was the very one she needed, but when the door opened, they saw not a room for storing money, but some kind of strange food.

“It is a high honor to present communion to the king, so of course I will not be entrusting that task to the two of you,” he cracked a horse laugh, way too amused by his own joke, “still there will be others partaking before the ceremony, so I shall have one of you be bread bearer.”

“I’ll do it,” Reks offered, “he’s obviously too young to have taken first communion after all,” he added.

The priest nodded, “very well, then for you boy, we will need an extra basket for collecting tithes,” was fortune on their side? Had they really just stumbled their way into success already? Her heart skipped a beat as she felt her fears of failure begin to melt away. “Are you able to manage that?”

She nodded enthusiastically, trying to keep her eyes hidden as she did. The priest gave a grunt of approval and led the two back to the sanctuary where mass would soon begin. She was instructed to hand out pamphlets as guest entered in through the main doors, then was told to join the other altar boys in the back pew after the opening prayer began. From the moment she first stood by the door, handing a pamphlet to the first guest, she felt as though the eyes of every guest burned through her, seeing past her disguise to the demon within. Her skin itched as though spiders had snuck their way beneath her robes, and the sensation only got worse as time passed. 

The priest called the congregation to join him in prayer, bringing a small sense of relief as she was able to retreat to a nearby pew. Six boys, Reks included, all kneeling with their heads bowed, glanced at her as she took a seat at the very end. Not wanting them to see her face, she buried her head in her hands, feigning prayer, hoping they would not see her eyes. 

"Who the hell are you?" A slightly older looking boy asked, leaning over to get a closer look.

"We're just help sent from the camp," Reks chuckled, shifting a little to block the nosy boy's view.

"Which camp, cause I'm from the Saint Ardur's camp and I've never seen you before," another boy inquired.

"No, not that one," Reks tried to remember the different Shepherd camps he'd heard of, though it all seemed to slip his mind. His eyes began darting around the room looking for clues on the different statues, "Justine, Saint Justine!"

"The lost souls camp? Guess you got lucky they sent you here then," the first boy laughed.

"Lost souls?" The girl inquired.

"Outta the six camps, that's easily the worst, only the lowliest of sinners get sent there" the boy answered, "can't imagine what kinda freaks you gotta be to crawl out of that camp."

"The kind that break fingers of boys who don't mind their business," Reks threatened with an insincere smile.

Letting out the faintest cry, the boy turned back toward the priest and resumed his prayer, the others following suit. 

"First prayers almost over, gonna be your time to shine, Silver," Reks whispered in her ears.

With a gulp, she stood as the prayer ended and the other altar boys assigned to take collections began to assemble at the very back of the sanctuary. A priest handed each of them a basket and they waited for the deacon to announce the start of the tithes collection. 

The congregation joined the choir in song as the altar boys walked down the aisle passing collection baskets down each pew. Each time a basket made it to one side the pew, another altar boy would bring it to the next, where it would pass on down back to her. As ides filled the basket, temptation grew inside her to simply snatch it and run, though she knew that even with the current heft of the collections that there was no way it was enough money to satisfy Loche. Still, it would be so easy to just simply leave now with a little basket full of ides, it could buy her some food for sure, perhaps it was even enough to purchase a dress from Josiah’s shop. In her naivete it seemed like a good idea, till images of Loche’s special room flashed inside her mind, convincing her to continue with their plan. 

She reached the final pew, the basket coming back to her one last time, trying to deduce what it was she was meant to do now. She looked around the sanctuary and saw the others holding baskets begin to converge into a single line towards the altar. Sheepishly she dragged her feet and joined the others before the altar, where the head priest said a prayer over the tithes and offerings. The entire time she held one eye shut, cursing herself for having forgotten to cover it, sweating under the heat of the priest's gaze. An eternity passed as she stood there with the others, holding their little baskets full of money before the head priest, listening to him drone on about “bountiful blessings to those who offer their meager pittance to god the adjudicator,” all words that meant very little to her, yet made her squirm all the same. “Those who have nothing, but give much will receive tenfold,” he said to the congregation, and it took everything in her to not scoff at his silly words. At last he closed off his prayer, signaling the deacon to lead the children away with their baskets, presumably to store them within the coffers.

She continued to hold her eye shut tight as she followed behind, lingering enough to keep her distance but trying not to stand out either. Leaving the sanctuary behind, she studied the path they took, making note of the twists and turns down the church halls so she could recount them to Reks later. First a left, then three doors down another left, two more doors past a restroom and one final right to a narrow hall. There at the end of the narrow hall was a door, behind that door had to be the coffers, she was certain of it. The deacon fished a keyring from his pocket and fiddled with it till he found the key. It was silver with some letters on it and sandwiched between a gold key and a smaller black key, the last bit of info she needed, now she only needed to get the key from him. 

“Come on now, hand them forward,” he swung his hand in a circular motion urging the altar boys to give him the baskets.

“Don’t you,” she spoke feebly, “don’t you need help bringing them in there?”

The deacon rolled his eyes, then looked over the offerings, “there does seem to be more than usual doesn’t there?” he gestured at her, “fine then if you’re willing to volunteer then hurry up.”

It couldn’t be this easy, could it? She was stunned, certainly fortune could not be so willingly on her side. Not wishing to try the deacon’s patience further, she took a basket from another altar boy and helped bring them into the room. As small as she was, the two baskets together were almost too much for her to carry, but she didn’t want to miss the opportunity. The deacon entered the room alongside her, carrying the remaining two baskets and setting them on a table. She set hers beside his, and quickly scanned the room. Certainly, the safe couldn’t just be in plain sight, she thought, and she was wrong, it sat on a shelf, perhaps the most visible object in the entire room. 

“That is all, you can go back now, child,” the deacon shooed her away.

“I, I don’t remember the way back,” she lied.

“Then follow the other boys,” 

“They left already,” she lied again.

Letting out an exacerbated groan, the deacon waved his hand, “fine then, wait for me out in the hall.” 

She nodded, and slowly slipped out the room, taking in as many details as she could before doing so. 

The altar boys walked in a line down the hall, though she did not follow them, she did as the deacon told her and waited. It was too risky to steal the keys while there were others around, so this would have provided the perfect opportunity for her to snatch them, all she had to do was wait for him to walk out that door, and she’d make her move.

She would unfortunately wait a long time, long enough that she had once more felt as though she lost any concept of time, not that she had ever had a good grasp on it to begin with. Was he counting all the money? That had to be it, there wouldn’t be any other reason for him to be taking so long, right? It would have been easier and perhaps less boring for her if she’d just taken the key while they were in the room together, but then he may have noticed when he went to lock the door on his way out. So despite her infinite boredom, she waited. 

Waiting like that had the unfortunate effect of reminding her of her hunger. All she had eaten the day before was an apple and a bonbon, not the most filling diet. The whole month had been bad for her, as many of the shops she normally swiped food from had begun to take notice of her shoplifting. Pick pocketing strangers had been a last resort, one that resulted in her being chased and beaten, though it seems that was the result of every action. Struggle to survive then get punished for wanting to live. It was beyond an unfair existence, the kind of life that proved there was no god. Or perhaps it proved that everyone was right, that she was a demon and god hated her. Honestly, it didn’t matter, neither explanation changed the fact that her stomach was empty, and her body was burning. 

Sitting in that church, waiting to steal money donated by the king made her wonder if her life could have been better in the king's manor, a thought that didn’t last long before an overwhelming hatred clouded all her senses. A simple thought, just mentioning his name, sent her into a blind rage she couldn’t quite understand. She didn’t know the king, but in that moment, she knew she hated him with every fiber of her being. She began to blame the king for everything that had happened to her, not knowing why, but certainly knowing it had to be his fault. 

“What’s takin so long, Silver?” Reks' voice jolted her back to reality as he rounded the corner, “whatcha doin there, girl?” She quietly pointed at the door in response and Reks nodded, “ah, so it’s in there is it? Good girl,” he walked over and patted her on the shoulder. He sounded clumsy saying it, but she was happy to hear him call her a girl, happy enough to have forgotten whatever it was she was just thinking about. “So did you get the key?”

She shook her head and whispered, “he’s still in there, I’m gonna swipe it when he comes out.”

He nodded and stroked his chin, “ah, yeah that makes sense I guess,” sighing through his nose he sat down beside her, “honestly can’t wait to get this done and over with. I can’t shake this odd feeling…”

“What’s wrong Reks?”

“Nah, it’s nothing, just me being paranoid,” he laughed, “oh hey, I swiped something from the cafeteria for ya on my way here,” he pulled a baggie that contained a small round food topped with some kind of fish, “you fine with anchovies?”

She nodded, though she had never actually had them before, and graciously accepted the food. Taking a bite, she was just a little disappointed with how salty it was, but overall, she was happy to have something to fill her growling belly. 

“They’re probably going to be serving those to the royal guests or something, guess it’s some kinda fancy food,” he laughed, “thought it looked like the most filling thing I can find, hope you like it.” She smiled between bites and nodded her head, “that’s good, then happy I can get it for ya.” 

She gobbled up the fishy hors d'Oeuvre just in time as the deacon shuffled out of the coffer room, worry melting his face into a disgruntled mess. He nearly tripped over the girl's feet, before remembering she had been waiting for him. “Ah, you two boys what are you doing?”

“You said you’d show me back to the church room,” she answered innocently, “I can’t remember how to get there.”

“And what about you?” He pointed at Reks, “didn’t you have a task?”

“Communions been served already,” he shrugged, “I was just lookin for him.”

Whipping sweat from his face, the deacon groaned, “very well, perhaps it is a good thing you two are here. I will need assistance with his majesty.”

“His majesty?” Reks played dumb.

“The king has arrived earlier than expected, and the prince is on his way. We need to hurry and get things ready,” he waved his arms up and down, motioning for the two to stand up, “so come on now, we haven’t got all day.”

The two rose, looked at each other, and followed the deacon as he stamped down the hall. 

That is how the two found themselves now in a room with the crown prince, far on the other side of the cathedral, away from their true goal. 

“Aight, your majesty, I’m pretty sure you know how to dress yourself,” Reks shoved the robes into the prince’s hands and stepped back, “hurry up and put them on.”

“I,” the prince stuttered for a moment, fumbling over their words as they tried to vocalize their concern, “I do not know how to fasten the buttons properly.” 

“You mean you can’t put on your own clothes?” Reks smacked his head and sighed, “Silver, can you do it, I don’t exactly feel too keen on stripping someone's clothes off.”

“What? Why me?”

“Because you’re like the same age, or something,” he explained.

“But I’m a girl,” she argued.

“I am too!” the prince exclaimed, before their cheeks turned a deep bright red, “well, actually I’m not. I don’t know why I said that.” 

The two looked at the prince dumbfounded, then silently agreed they’d let the subject stop there. “Fine, I’ll help,” the girl gave in, “but like don’t look or anything, okay?”

“Who you tellin? The prince is the one that’s gonna be practically naked not you,”

“If you aren’t gonna help, then don’t look,” she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Ugh, yeah no duh, but like just hurry up okay?” he sighed and turned around all while grumbling, “all you had to do was swipe the key, now we’re babysitting the royal bratt.” 

The girl stepped up to the prince, sighing heavily, and took the robes from him. She tugged on the prince's bowtie, pulling it loose, “You really never dressed yourself before?”

“My servants dress me,” Oden answered.

“Of course, they do,” she rolled her eyes as she pulled off their overcoat, “they feed you too, don’t they?”

“Sometimes,” they blushed, “but I know how to feed myself. Just, Nioto will cut me up apple slices as a treat.”

“Slices? What do you mean slices?” she asked as she began to unbutton the prince’s dress shirt.

“She cuts it up and throws out the core for me,”

“Throws out the core? That’s wastin food!” she snapped.

The prince lowered his gaze, “I am sorry, I don’t know why that made you so angry, but it’s just how she feeds them to me.”

Her hands twitched as she continued to remove the prince’s clothes, a task she disliked more the longer she did it, “why do you have so many clothes?” she asked as she opened the shirt to see another shirt beneath it.

“You can leave that one on,” the prince said, “I am pretty sure I am supposed to wear it under my other clothes.”

“Must be nice having a full wardrobe, hey Silver?” Reks spat, “wouldn’t ya kill to have some fancy threads like that?”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his question she helped the prince pull the gown over their head, her hand getting caught on their eyepatch as their head poked through the garment. The moment the gown was on, the prince’s eyes had been exposed, staring deeply back into the girls. Two differently colored eyes, just like her own, one pink and the other blue. “You’re… you’re like me?”

The revelation didn’t even have a second to set in before the deacon barged in, “hurry up now boys, the king is,” he gasped mid-sentence, staring in horror at the prince, “a demon!” 

Immediately, Nioto shoved him into the room, pinning him to the wall, a knife at his throat, “you take this secret to your grave, or you will find the grave calling you sooner than you’d like.” 

“What secret? I see no secret,” he panicked, “come along now boys, best not to leave the king waiting.” 

Nioto released the sweating pastor and hid her knife behind her apron, “I trust you children will stay quiet about this?”

“I didn’t see anythin ma’am,” Reks feigned ignorance.

“Good,” she turned to the girl and stared, looming over her like a tower, “do I know you?”

“Mommy?” a little girl called out from outside the room, drawing her attention away.

“I’m in here sweetie, don’t worry, we’ll be right out, love,” grabbing the prince by the hand, she led them out, before looking back to the girl one last time. 

The priest grabbed the girl's arm, “come, come now boys,” he tugged at her robe, “no need to dally here.”

Without a second's hesitation she wrapped her arms around the deacon's waist, pressing her face into his belly as she began to cry crocodile tears.

“What are you doing?” he shrieked, “stop that!”

“I was so scared, I thought the demon was going to hurt me!” she whimpered, rubbing her face into his shirt.

“Okay, okay, knock it off, you’re safe now child,” he tried to console her, a task one would think a priest would be better at, but instead he simply fumbled with ‘comforting’ words, “it is alright, okay, you don’t have to cry, boy.”

“Okie,” she released him and smiled a cheesy grin, “I feel better now,” she turned and clung to Reks’ arm, “let’s go!”

“Perhaps you need to be sent back to the camps to toughen up a bit,” the deacon grumbled, flattening out his now ruffled robes. With a huff the old priest left, telling the boys to meet him in the sanctuary.

“What the hell was all that?” Reks bellowed, holding back an awkward laugh once the deacon was out of sight.

The girl smirked and revealed the ring of keys she had hidden inside her sleeve, “my best performance, that’s what.”