They were all that was left of the old icons now. On the high altar a small crowd had gathered about Father Vital and were on their knees, praying the Our Father. ‘Papa loves you,’ Fabricia said. Elionor reached out and took her hand. ‘I do not mean to hurt him with this – or you. I should have taken the consolamentum long ago, but for my family. But I have done my duty to you both, and now I have to follow my conscience.’ ‘But why now?’ ‘I am tired of the world, Fabricia. Once I thought I should take the consolamentum only as I die. But what if it is sudden, what if there is not the time? I do not wish to come back to this world again, despite all the joy you and your father have given me.’ ‘Will you become a priest, like him, then?’ ‘Should we somehow survive this – yes, I shall be a priest and preach, as Father Vital does.’ Fabricia hung her head. ‘I do not understand why you and your father persist with the Roman Church, the ridiculous nonsense they believe.
