While not the gra cathedral she had seen, it had suffit size to impress without feeling intimidating. The old bricks held ahy charm and the simple windows seen from the outside made it seem rather modest.

  Of course, the iill had the vibrancy expected of a church, full of vivid artwork, even the doors themselves having Biblical carvings upon them. How beautiful the Virgin Mary looked upon the pilrs, how toug was Christ’s suffering upon the wall, with even a vast mural of a saint, red cloak sht.

  This quiet day, she stood loosely in the tre of the hall and looked up at the stained gss windows up high above the pews.

  “Which prophet does my child seek guidance from today?”

  She did not move at first, her gaze staying there before finally ing down. “Bishop of Augsburg,” she said, her smile small, and gave a curtsey as if before a duke. “I look to the prophet Jonah.”

  “Ah, he is certainly ohat I enjoy preag. While there is muuan what Christ taught us, the Book of Jonah shows simply that repentance is at the heart of our Lord,” he said, his voice a touch deep, seeming loud even when speaking quietly.

  He wore an amicable smile, his hands behind his back as if to show he hid nothing. An older man, he looked some age over fifty, how much over entirely depending on how well he had looked after himself. From what she knew, he looked after himself well and had turned fifty- month.

  “If I may, sir, could that we would begin with the Sacrament of Penance?” she said.

  “Of course, my child,” he said.

  The fessional had a more oryle than the building, intricate and carved from finer wood than the ageing pews. While his side had a door, now closed, hers simply had a doorway, exposed to the rest of the church. Betweehere was a mesh of criss-crossing wood and, on his side, a velvet curtain. She sat patiently.

  After almost a mihe curtain slid over and he made the sign of the cross. “Upon learning of what Jonah had dohe men of the ship did not throw him overboard, even at his ow. However, they could only do the Lord’s will in the end. So He spared them just as He would e to spare Jonah. In this, we see that He is kind in his justice.”

  He paused there to clear his throat.

  “Pray speak, my child, that He may show you His kindness.”

  She bowed her head. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a year and three days since my st fession. I have sinitted a grave sin, which is to be gd for not showing mery fellow man, oime. I have also itted the sin of lying on three occasions, and I have enced others to murder on two occasions. These are all my sins.”

  Silence followed, but only for a moment. “Let us discuss this. Why does my child think not showing mercy is a grave sin?” he asked, his voice soft and even.

  “The man had beeeo death for his crime and made a petition for mercy, which I denied. It has since been revealed to me that his trial did not include evidehat may have seen him acquitted.”

  “Such a thing, while unfortunate, does not stitute a grave sin. If my child holy believed him guilty and the trial fair, then it would be sidered a venial sin.”

  “Father misuands me. It is that I still do not show him mercy, thinking it fortuhat this evidence did not e out in time. Christ asks us tive, yet, knowing this man’s crimes, I ot. Pray give me guidance, Father.”

  The silence lingered for lohis time.

  “It is indeed a difficult topie where I only ence my child to have faith in the Lord and his ways. Just as He had the sailors sacrifice Jonah to save themselves, perhaps He had you a His stead,” he said. “However, it certainly is a grave sin to hold such hatred in our hearts towards fellow children of Christ. While it may feel like fiveness is tet the crimes the man itted, rather fiveness is to realise that he has been judged by the Lord, so now hteous anger may bee passion for those impacted. Does that help my child?”

  “Thank you, Father,” she said softly, “it does.”

  A creak sounded out as he adjusted his position. “Of your other sins, how is it that they came about?”

  “As Father knows, I am a ruler and, at my and, I had men go to battle. It may not be a sin to some; however, I feel heavy the burden. Those otlefield… if they should sy a man and then be sin in turn, have they not itted murder and cked time to repent? My only salvation is that they did not do so entirely willingly, that I am the one who pelled them to sin.”

  “My child has a difficult jourhrough life,” he said, his tone light as if joking, yet no ughter spilled from either him or her. “As far as your soldiers are ed, be at ease. The Lord is just and would not judge them for not seeking penance given their circumstances. As for you, I ask, did you make those choices lightly?”

  She gave a slight shake of her head, a tinkle of gss from the Rosary beads around her neck. “No, Father,” she whispered. “I truly wished with all my heart for a peaceful alternative. However, I feel torween my faith and being a ruler. I would follow in Christ’s example if it was my life alone. My people, though, I have a duty to protect them. If I must it a sin, is it better to murder or to betray my subjects?”

  By the end, ughter tainted her voice, yet there was no humour. A desperate ment, masking her pain.

  “My child,” he said, tinged with sadness.

  “I apologise for losing myself. To think, st year I so fretted over the sin of divorce. A simpler time.”

  He said nothing on that, a few seds passing with only her deep, measured breaths to break the pressing silehe question of which sin is lesser reater is not ohat be answered in a simple way. One may murder to save a life, and one may cause ao it that most grave sin through withholding wages. What matters is that, when given su impossible choice, one chooses that which they believe is lesser, and that one fesses o is feasible.”

  “Thank you, Father. Although I fear I shall struggle with this my entire life, yuidance is reassuring,” she said.

  After giving her a moment, he asked, “What of my child’s lies?”

  She brought up a hand, holding one of the rosary beads betweehumb and finger. “I lied in pursuit of one murder. I lied to the King out of fear. I lied to a servant.”

  “May I sider the first has been addressed?”

  Gently nodding, her fingers moved from oo the . “Yes, Father,” she said.

  “The sed, then. What need has my child to fear the King?”

  “That is… he asked if I still loved Prince Hector, and I told him I did not. However, I do. He was my husband in my eyes and I…. My apologies, this is not the pce for such talk. When the King asked me, I thought the truth would upset him and he would make my life difficult, and I felt weak at that time, so I lied.”

  He waited a moment to see if she would tihen asked, “Does my child feel weak now?”

  “No. If he asked again, I would speak the truth this time,” she said, her voice that little firmer as if to prove it.

  “Very well. Then, your st lie?”

  She bowed her head, but a smile came to her lips, letting go of the rosary beads with ainkle. “It may sound foolish, I know; however, I felt upset one evening and, in my spite, I sent a maid on a pointless errand. She had to walk far for it and it was on a cold evening. Wheurned, she was shivering. Although I dismissed her so she could go warm up in the servants’ quarters, I still felt guilty afterwards, even now. It is a small thing… but it remio be kind in all matters, whether big or small.”

  “I am pleased to hear that, my child.”

  Lifting her head up, she sat upright, smile lingering for a moment before fading away.

  “Has my child holy fessed her sins?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Father.”

  His shadow pyed on the mesh between them, bringing his hand to his face for a long moment, theling into a simir position to before. “These are the penances I would give my child,” he said before listing off a few prayers. “In addition, the man denied mercy, I would ask that my child sees the family of his victims are fortable. My child should have a prayer led for those lost in each battle and a prayer led for the King. Last of all, my child should offer her maid ara day’s pay.”

  She waited a beat, theed what he had told her.

  “Good. Now, if my child would show trition?”

  Bowing her head once more, she recited the prayer, apologising to God and promising penand asking for mercy.

  Once she finished, it was his turn for prayer as he gave absolution. At the end of his, she said, “Amen.”

  “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.”

  “His merdures forever,” she said.

  “Pray go in peace.”

  She slowly rose to her feet and shuffled out, saying, “My thanks, Father.”

  By the time he rejoined her, she had returo the same spot as before with her gaze still up high upon the depi of the prophet Jonah. However, she now held a rosary bead between her finger and thumb, the cross iher hand, lips moving in silent prayers. It was not the ones she had been assigned for penance, but many Hail Marys along with the other parts of the Rosary.

  So he waited until she had finished, no longer moving her finger along the beads, albeit still holding the cross. “Which Mysteries did my child meditate upon?” he asked.

  “The Sorrowful Mysteries,” she replied without hesitation, finally releasing the cross. “I feel closer to Christ for the burdens I carry.”

  Uo her, he smiled.

  “Sir,” she said as she turo him, “may we discuss the matters I wrote of?”

  “Of course,” he said and cpped his hands together. Rather than say more, though, he looked to the back of the hall where a person stood alone. “Dea Schmitt, if you would!”

  His words carried and summohe man. She watched as he walked over, finding him to be someone fairly young, yet without any exuberance. Often, she found the youth of the church to have the fire of God ihem. However, he hadn’t the weight of God like the mayor did, instead seeming like someone more reserved.

  “This is Dea Schmitt,” the bishop said. “He has been in the church for a while now and is the one most familiar with our charitable ats.”

  “Mr Schmitt,” she said, only a smile.

  The bishop gestured at her . “This is tess Augstadt, her family a generous tributor to our causes. Of course, it may not be obvious as you only took over after the te Lord Augstadt’s passing, but he and her mother were both beloved patrons of ours.”

  “My Lady,” Schmitt said, bowing to her.

  A higher-pitched voice, thin. Beside the bishop, he looked all the skinnier, but his robes hung loose off him, only showing in his gaunt face. Still, he did not look weak as he held himself well.

  “I am here to tiheir tradition. Five me for the dey, that I have had to learn much this st year,” she said lightly.

  “What fiveness is necessary? We do the Lord’s work with or without alms, alms something which is for the giver’s be,” the bishop said, ending with a chuckle. “Still, it was not simply alms you wrote of, so I thought to include Dea.”

  Her smile lingered a moment before vanishing, c her mouth. “Oh, pray do not think I am only here to seek indulgences,” she said, then dropped her hands back down to her rosary beads. “The timing, I think it reflects poorly on me.”

  “How could it? Good work is good work, regardless of when or why. The Lord knows your heart, my child,” the bishop said, his hands loosely gesturing along.

  She put on a small smile, then turo the dea. “Mr Schmitt. I do not know how much Bishop has said, so I shall give a summary. Of course, I would tihe alms my parents tributed; however, I would also seek to raise money for the stru of something like a uy for children? Nothing too grand, simply a pce for children of both sexes to be taught reading and writing, perhaps the ting necessary to work in a shop, as well as instruct them on the Church’s teags. One may think of it as a Sunday School that would be open all days to those who may attend, free of charge, and eveice the unfortuh warm food.”

  Pausing there, she turo the bishop.

  “Now that I think about it, such a pce would serve well to train more clergy. This is… having seen how the secur courts work, I think it would not be a terrible thing if more cases could be referred to ecclesiastical courts. However, I would not wish to burden the Church with such cases that it interferes with its other duties.”

  The bishop gave a small look of surprise, his eyebrows turning up, but settled into a warm smile. “I think seeing justice done is an important duty of ours. If it may be arranged, we would be gd to do so.”

  She let out a long breath, leaving behind a smile, and she let go of her rosary beads. “Our city has grown se and I feel like the Church has gged behind. Yes, even if I must pay for it myself, I would see a pce built that may bring more into the Church. First this school, then pces of worship.”

  The bishop chuckled and raised a hand to stop her there. “Please, my child, do not pledge more than one give. Let us take this oep at a time and see what our hearts believe is right. As good as building churches is, we may find other causes that would be more from charity at this time.”

  “Bishop is right,” she said, her smile broader. “However, I feel fident this school is the Lord’s will.”

  After returning her smile, he turned back to the dea and said, “When Lady Augstadt or her people e to discuss the specifics, please do show them suitable hospitality.”

  “Yes, Father,” the dea said, bowing his head.

  “Dea is dismissed,” the bishop said, then readied to speak again to her.

  However, she had something else to say to the dea. “Oh, Mr Schmitt? Miss Gianna has asked me to pass on her apology.”

  He stilled hearing that hen bowed his head again. “My thanks, Lady Augstadt,” he said softly.

  While he left, the bishop asked, “Miss Gianna, I think I have heard her name before?”

  “She often volunteered here with her mother until an unfortunate i retly….”

  The dea closed the door behind him, cutting out their voices, and stood with his back to it as his heart pounded in his chest.