voices murmured as he passed by, and he nodded in return, feeling their eyes on him, hearing the rushed sounds of their thoughts before he remembered to block them. This was not a night for prying when no crime had been committed. The Festival of Azurete’ was a time of coming together, of trust in one another, of life and love. Unless he sensed a threat, he had no desire to know their thoughts this night, preferring instead to allow them their privacy. And so he continued along, lulled into contentment after having sated his more carnal appetites for a time, and satisfied to walk among those who lived here, worked here, served here and loved one another here, without need for notice or acknowledgement. The air smelled of sea and rain, and as he breathed deep he allowed his mind to clear itself of all distraction, that he might call the perfection of her face to appear before him once more. She was unlike any he had ever seen; had felt unlike any he had ever touched, and for the first time in centuries he felt a genuine rush of anticipation simply at the thought of seeing her again. He had not tried earlier to hide that he was anxious to meet their new arrival, and Dante had thrown him a sleepy, Cheshire-like grin as Aramis had left him and Galadria to go for a walk about to clear his thoughts. No doubt Dante was going to enjoy watching him squirm for once. His priest was really so much more than just a priest – he was a dear and cherished friend – which also meant that he enjoyed the sport of poking the bear on occasion, just to see him growl.
