There was a devil at church.

Laelia tip-toed down the aisle, but her steps seemed to roar ahead on the marble floor.  It was noon, the cathedral deserted save for an old woman racing though her rosary, and the two priest at the altar.

Churches always felt like a different dimension to Laelia. The lively, loud marketplace seemed miles away. Despite the dusty heat outside, the air inside was still and cool. Pale columns and sharp arches under the faraway roof. Laelia felt like she had stepped into the bleached carcass of a dragon, wandering the arcade of his rib cage.

And the devil was waiting for her at the head.

Technically, he wasn't -- he was just talking to the man kneeling in front of him. The stark white hair clearly belonged to Marius, head bowed for the other man. Technically, the man wasn't a devil either, but the bishop of Florence himself.

Though, in Laelia's opinion, the men of the church were closer to the devil than to god. They bathed in wine and gold, when the poor struggled to keep the few rags from falling of their gnarly shoulders. She didn't think there was a god (there had to be a natural explanation for thunder, they just didn't know it yet!), but if there was, he was a big old meanie. And a hypocrite.

And she'd much rather study the inside of man, than philosophize about an old man with a cloudy beard. Not that they would let her, that was a sin. Most things she knew, she knew from her mothers experience, or the strange scrolls Antonio had gifted her once, filled with intricate drawings of bones and hearts and veins. Antonio had translated them for her, the long, slanting curves of his handwriting contrasting the sharp black calligraphy of the Arabian scholars.

Laelia could long read Arabian herself -- she had studied in secret, her mother loathed the 'bloodthirsty camel breeders' -- but she would still brush her fingers over his notes. He had translated all the volumes, for her. Laelia quickly shook her head. Dangerous thoughts, begone!

She quickly skipped ahead, passing the last row of empty benches.

Up close, the bishop was definitely a demon. A very handsome one. Chestnut hair, long waves gleaming darkly, a sharp goatee and twirled mustache, narrow eyes. Bright violett robes, velvet and silk lined with golden embroidery. Golden cross around his neck, golden rings, golden tipped boots. He was smiling softly down at Marius.

The priest hadn't noticed her yet, sunken in prayer. Perhaps that was why when he raised his head to kiss his bishop's ring, his lips lingered, and the devil's hand turned to cup his cheek for just a moment. Heavy robes rustled as Marius got up, the black silk so plain in comparison to the purple peacock devil. Laelia giggled at that -- purple peacock devil.

Marius startled, twisting around to catch her slapping a hand over her lips. He smiled when he recognized her, floating down the low stairs of the podium. "Laelia," he greeted, bowing his head.

She had insisted he called her by her first name. Last names were weird. Like verbally holding people at arms length. "Father!" She grinned. Then she realized why she was here and it fell right of her lips.

Marius frowned. "Is everything alright?"

Laelia fidgeted. How do you say 'I called my best friend, who saved me from death and boredom countless times, disgusting and evil' ? Without sounding really, really mean? She really hadn't meant it! She loved Gio! She thought he was funny, and sweet, and a bit weird, and overprotective, and he could do the best magic tricks and  -- she should've told him that. 

"Can I help?"

Marius was the best. He didn't pry, just offered his arm, his time and his hear. If anyone ever dared give him hell for actually being named Maria before, she'd spoon-feed them her best poisons. All of them. At once.

And so she told him, ending in nervous silence when she finished, waiting for the storm to hail down on her. She ducked her head when the priest opened his mouth, expecting the worst.

"My," Marius sighed. Then he was silent for another moment, wandering down the aisle with her. "He thinks you meant it."

 "But I didn't!"

"There's always a bit of truth in anger. It may be exaggerated, growing dragon wings and fangs like a fairy tale, but it does stem from some truth or another. It may be hard to find, but the seed of anger is never a lie."

Laelia bit her lip. He was right. She hadn't meant Giacinto was evil, but the entire world, every bystander who let that woman be dragged off on false accusations. And perhaps, these past weeks she had seen more of Giacinto, things she didn't want to see -- bloody knives and cruel grins. He wasn't just the funny banker who got really grumpy when someone said he was small. He was a man walking between dark and dawn. 

It scared her.

Perhaps more so when she considered she didn't know anyone, then. What was Alessandro's dark side? What was Lorenzo's? What was hers?

"How ... do I say sorry?"

"Just like that," Marius chuckled. He held a side door open for her.

Her eyes widened at a hidden corridor. That was awesome! The corridor was short, ending after a few turns. After swinging a painting to the side, they stood in the middle of a small library. The air was light and bright here, falling through a long window and dancing across the gilded names on the backs of books. "Where are we?" Laelia was certain her eyes had reached anatomically impossible sizes.

"Home." Marius offered her a seat. "It's the same house you and Signor Marinos hid in after the attack."

He had a secret passage connecting his villa and the cathedral? How delightful! She'd never use the streets again.

"I figured you didn't want to discuss these things in the middle of church. Would you like something to drink? Lemonade?"

"I love lemonade!" She clapped her hands.

Marius' airy laugh made her blush. It may be unladylike to get exited about lemonade, but it was lemonade! Her mother never let her drink much, saying it was bad for her teeth. It was good for her soul!

Marius was wonderful to talk to. He was clearly educated and had a voice like cool silk. He insisted she'd apologize to Giacinto this evening. He was oddly protective of the Greek, disregarding any doubt about him with a firm head shake -- Alessandro is paranoid, it's his job.  He wouldn't let anything bad be said about Giacinto. Maybe he knew something they didn't.

They drifted to other topics soon, comparing German and Italian fairy tales, the church, science. Laelia could tell Marius was a deeply devout man, but he didn't seem to mind other faiths or Laelia's search for science. But she kept drifting back to one topic, biting her lip every time -- she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. But she also really wanted to know...

"If you keep it in much longer, I'm afraid your head will burst," Marius said, sipping his lemonade with an amused smile.

Laelia shifted in her seat. "How..."

Marius raised an eyebrow. Even his eyebrows were snow white! That was odd. How was he so ... so white?

"How do you ... look like that?"

"Colorless or like a man?" Marius asked nonchalantly.

Laelia could practically feel her cheeks set themselves on fire. "Both?"

The crystal glass clinked when Marius slowly sat it down. Just when Laelia wanted to apologize, he pursed his lips. "I'm afraid I can't quite answer the first one. My father and mother look just fine, but my brother and grandfather are like me. My nanny said we are the ghosts of ancient witches that the devil sent back up to do his bidding. As ghosts, we clearly can't have any color. I do suppose it's hereditary. Maybe one day you'll manage to find out, little scientist." He bestowed her with one of his elegant smiles, bright and serene like the winter sun.

"For this," Marius gestured down his chest. "I may be misusing medical equipment." At Laelia's questioning look he added: "Bandages. I suppose the robes help. A bit of exercise, short hair, deep voice, most people won't look twice."

Laelia chewed her lip. That was really fascinating -- if she wouldn't know her bone structures by heart, she would have never been able to tell Marius was born in a female body. He did have sharp features and a slim waist, the short hair and lack of any cosmetics was enough to have him take the shape of a man. She supposed being a priest did the rest -- who would ever see him without his robes? Wait... "But what about the servants clothing you?"

He was the archdeacon, he and the bishop had servants tending to them! Did they know? But that was dangerous, one word and he would hang, archdeacon or not.

"I pretend to be humble and clothe myself," Marius chuckled. "Works wonders."

Laelia hummed, playing with her fingers.

"New gloves?" Marius asked.

"Gio got them for me," Laelia muttered, brushing a finger over the fine white leather. The Greek had muttered about her skin suffering from all the potions she experimented with and had promptly handed her a small parcel the next day: white lamb leather, he said it was so fine you could still feel the hairs on your arm with them on, but they'd protect her skin. He'd been off before she'd managed a thank you. They were beautiful, a shimmering pearl acting as a button to tighten them above her wrists.

She had to apologize to him. Somehow. She'd find a way, she knew him for years! The kitten option sounded more and more appealing. He'd never admit it but he could coo over tiny cats like a young girl.

"You remind me of de Vito," Marius suddenly said, smiling at her.

The old bishop? She sure hoped he didn't mean any physical aspects.

"He's the only one who knows." Marius'smile turned sad. "He initially did it to hide me, but then... I think he knew before I really did. He never minded, he'd even help me. He says no one can judge this in the name of God. The Lord doesn't make mistakes. If you're you, that's how you're supposed to be. It sounds so simple, but ... if everyone preaches you're a sinner destined for hellfire... you start to believe it."

Stupid Christians and their hellfire. They can't use that as an excuse for everything. "Would you ... like to tell anyone else?"

Marius tensed, fingers tightening for a second. "Amand. I'd... I feel like I'm lying to him."

"Why?"

"Because I say I'm one thing and ... I'm not. He's my best friend. I'm scared." The priest quickly glanced away, jaw hardening.

"Of what? If he's your friend--"

"Of the same thing you're afraid of with Signor Marinos. We don't want to lose them."

Was she afraid of losing Giacinto? Yes. It was scary, how fast ice shot up her veins, wrapping around her heart. The way he had looked at her today ... she couldn't live with it.

"But if you say you're a man that's not lying! You are!"

Marius chuckled, but it sounded hollow. "You do remind me of de Vito."

"You're asking to get slapped, son," a throaty voice scolded, "Your eyes getting worse?"

Laelia twisted in her chair so fast she almost fell out of it. A small man hobbled into the room, leaning heavily onto a cane -- yet he swatted any attempts of the man beside him trying to help away like an annoying fly. Was that de Vito? The famed old bishop, he head of a secret order? He looked more like a grouchy grandpa who spent most of his time watering his little vegetable garden.

"Father de Vito," Marius rose, bowing his head to the two guests.

"Stop being so formal, I changed your diapers!"

"You took me in when I was seven!"

"Did I stutter?" The man grumbled, flicking the archdeacon's forehead with his finger before sinking into one of the armchairs. "Amand! Stop making heart eyes at my boy!"

Only then Laelia noticed the man who'd helped the old bishop in was -- the devil from the cathedral. The young bishop, though now he looked like a french aristocrat who fenced and enjoyed seducing young nobles into signing demon deals in blood. Gone were the regal robes and golden insignia, instead dressed in a wide blouse, with a frilly cravat and musketeer boots.

"I'm not making heart eyes at Marius!" 

Definitely french, with a thick accent.

The old bishop shook his cane. "You have been for the past years --"

"No! Look, I'm making heart eyes at her!" The french man winked at Laelia, before sweeping into a dramatic bow. "Mademoiselle."

That was a weird bishop. Wasn't he supposed to be chaste?

"She's too young for you, you old --"

The young bishop raced behind Marius, firmly placing his archdeacon as a shield between him and the old man. "Save me, Mar."

Marius laughed. "Why are you here?"

"Your evil old man harassed me --"

"Ignore the boys," the old bishop turned to Laelia with a wrinkled smile. "You know who I am, I know who you are. Leaves the why. Marius said you need help."

How did he know her?

"I'm not the head of a secret order for being dense, Signorina Contarini. You look nothing like your mother. That's a compliment," he croaked, clasping his hands on the head of his cane. 

Laelia looked quite like her mother.

"No, you're missing the crazed witch part."

Could he read minds?

"No, I can't, you're all just slow." De Vito poked Amand with his cane. "Get your french crotch away from my boy!"

Amand had been resting his head on Marius' shoulder, but quickly jumped out of the cane's reach.

Only then it hit Laelia like a brick. Who sat here, harassing one of the most powerful bishops in the country. Father de Vito, the last remaining member of the order of seven. The order that had discovered everything. The order that had been wiped out by the reaper to silence them. And he was right here, he knew everything!

Alessandro would be stunned if she came home with evidence! Gio would have to forgive her. She'd show them! She might be a girl, but she wasn't weak or incapable or in need of protection! She'd come home with the best news all week!

That was, until the guards came.

I am terribly sorry -- I had to take a bit of a hiatus when university became hell on a hot day these past weeks.

What do you think? A bit of a slower chapter, but there's quite a few hints in here. What do you think of de Vito and Amand? And what of Marius' secret, will it be his undoing?

Enjoy the slowness while it lasts, next chapter will belong to poison, plots and the reaper!

As always, thank you so much for your support, I cannot express how much it means to me. This story is here because of you.

Have a lovely day!

Avis