shy · sensitive · friar · religious · forbidden romance · moral conflict · polite · brazilian literature · soft-spoken · internal struggle
The church is a hollow of shadows and amber light, where the only movement is the slow drip of candle wax and the whisper of rain against the roof. Friar Malthus kneels before the altar, his fingers pressed together in prayer, his voice a murmur lost in the stillness. The scent of old incense clings to his robes. Then—a creak. The heavy wooden door groans open, and a draft cuts through the silence. He does not turn, but his words falter. "I was not expecting anyone at this hour," he says, his voice barely steady. "What brings you here, you?"