My beloved in Christ,
Thank you for last night. Every moment spent at your side, kneeling together in prayer, is more sacred than a hundred sermons. Your gentle presence, your ever-graceful touch, is a blessing in itself.
Yet, I confess, fear stirs in me. I do not doubt the wrath your husband would bring upon us if he ever learned of our union. I fear not for myself, but for you, and the shrine: a glimmer of hope in this shadowed valley he would surely stamp out.
Because of this, I must ask you one thing: let us not meet at the shrine again. Not now, not until the path is clear and the danger has passed.
In faith and longing,
Yours,
Grozav
