* * *
That evening in the dimly lit church, the mass ended with the Gregorian chant. As the crowd walked out, Rosalin continued with her prayers silently, head bowed and eyes closed, kneeling in the pew.
In the sacristy, a pagan villager stood respectfully with his head bowed. Fr. Kane pulled out some coins from his pocket and gave it to the villager. ‘Here take this money and see that you take home some food. Tomorrow I want you to go and meet Dom Manuella at the market. He’ll give you some work.’ The villager bent down to touch his feet. ‘You are so kind Padre.’
‘It’s ok. Now you go.’ The villager turned and stopped in his track with fear as his eyes fell on Rosalin standing at the door. Fr. Kane stifled a smile. ‘It’s ok. You go.’
The villager quickly bowed low in front of Rosalin and hurried outside. Rosalin smiled. ‘You should have seen his face.’
‘Yes, these common people especially the pagans dread the royal family and us too.’
‘I don’t blame them. But then I am happy you are here for them instead of some other priest.’
There was a subtle silence as Fr. Kane turned around to keep the chalices in its place. Rosalin watched him silently. Her charioteer walked up.
‘Your highness, the chariot’s ready.’ Fr. Kane turned to look at her. They stared at each other. She turned around and walked out of the room.