“After we fought here in the hermitage, I was going to find you and tell you that I was leaving the abbey early, that there was nothing here for me to understand. That you’d deprived yourself of everything for nothing. But when I found you to tell you all that, you were sitting in the cloister, and then—” He gives me an agonized look. “The fireflies,” I say. “That was the night with the fireflies.” “I thought you’d chosen the Church over me, but you didn’t, did you?” he asks in a jagged voice. “You chose God over me, and somehow that’s worse than anything else I’d ever thought of because I
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