Mister… Father Sir?

That brought a smile back to the priest’s face, small and involuntary though it was. It really had not been her intention to disrespect him then, by ignoring the title when he first gave it. She’d simply never been to church.

Well – he had never been to church either, at her age.

“Just ‘Father’ is fine,” he guided gently, “and that’s quite alright.”

Malachi was not surprised by the questions that came next – they were natural things to wonder about, especially when it was all new – but he was afraid he did not have any answers that would please her. He supposed when one looked at it from the outside, it did all seem rather unnecessarily lonely.

Her comment regarding his height, and it relating in some way to his potential to be a ‘very good husband,’ only widened Malachi’s smile. What a… peculiar thing to say, and yet it was one of the kindest things he’d heard in some time. Mable might have frowned, but what was there to be sad about?

“Ah. Well, leaving would be an option,” he began with a deep inhale, “but the priesthood is a lifelong commitment. When I became a priest, I promised my life to the church, and that means giving up things like partnership, secular ambitions, wealth…”

He was not making it sound any better, was he? The look he gave her was only moderately embarrassed.

“…I am married to the church, essentially. If I was to fall in love, I hope that I would have the strength to love them from a distance.”

Malachi was not worried about falling in love. He might not have been as strict as he should have been with his vows, in the past, but love had never been a part of the equation. Was he even capable of loving someone the way that husbands loved their wives? Was anyone in the world capable of loving him?

“It is not as lonely as it sounds,” he said quickly. “The church allows me to help more people than I ever thought I could.”