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Chapter Seventeen: The Frescoes in the Walls

  • Father Azrael nodded and then went where Aurora stood. He felt her nerves on edge, but there was nothing he could do to calm them. Honestly, he found it silly of her to feel nervous. The Pope was just an old man, leader of a grand religion maybe, but still an old man.
  • “Aurora, the Holy Pope wants to meet you now,” he said, his eyes riveted on her.
  • In response, Aurora’s hands trembled even more. She immediately stabilized them by clasping. After taking a long, deep breath and clearing her throat, she walked forward, summoning all of her confidence to help her face the Holy Pope. She however paused abruptly when she realized that Father Azrael remained still on the spot.
  • “Uh, aren’t you coming with me Father?” she asked, worry printed in her face.
  • “No, you need to talk to him alone,” was his quick reply.
  • She wanted to plead, but knew that it wasn’t proper, so she surrendered in the end and went her own way.
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