Chapter 9 Elior
Elior
It had been a few days since Jace’s apology for what had happened between us. We’d gone back to walking together in the mornings after service, and as each day went by, I felt myself growing more and more comfortable with his presence.
But I was worried about the upcoming confession night. It felt too soon, even though it’d already been a week since the last one—there were just two more days to go.
I tried not to think about it as I waited for Jace to join me.
Tried to keep my hands tucked neatly behind my back, my posture straight, my face calm.
Father always said that the body reflected the soul, and the soul reflected one’s devotion, so I tried to let the morning light warm my shoulders and steady me.
But it didn’t help.
Especially not when I could feel Jace behind me, closing the distance the way he always did. My breath caught when his stride matched mine.
I kept my eyes on the ground.
He cleared his throat softly. “You’re quiet today. Everything alright?”
I swallowed and lifted my gaze to his. The warmth in his eyes almost made me melt. “I-I’m always quiet.”
He huffed a quiet laugh and brushed a finger against my sleeve, which I tried to ignore. “Not with me. At least, not anymore.”
That made my face go hot. I hadn’t meant to speak more with him. It just… happened. The walks made something inside me loosen.
But after what happened during the last confession—after the way my whole body reacted, how my breath broke apart under his touch—I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t trust whatever that feeling inside me was.
“Tell me what’s got you looking like you’re thinking too hard.”
The path stretched straight ahead, but everything in me pulled sideways, pulled toward the sound of him. My pulse fluttered embarrassingly fast.
“I’m just… worried,” I murmured, dropping my gaze again to focus on the ground.
“About?” he asked.
I took a big breath, then blew it out. “It’s almost confession night again…”
There was a beat of silence, then Jace murmured, “Elior, look at me.”
I did.
His expression softened, and I trembled as he reached out his hand. My heart raced in my chest as his eyes then appeared to darken, like molten chocolate, as his fingers stopped midair just inches from my face.
He said quietly, “What do you want?”
I blinked, puzzled at his question. I wasn’t sure I was following. “W-what do you mean?” My eyes flicked back to the fingertips still floating in front of me.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
I shook my head too fast. “N-no!”
One of his eyebrows lifted, amused. “No?”
“No,” I whispered, my mouth suddenly feeling bone-dry. I licked my lips as I kept looking at his tan fingers.
Uncomfortable wasn’t the right word for what I was feeling. Nothing in my life had ever made me feel like Jace made me. Warm and too full and dizzy and… alive.
I looked away again, heat racing up my neck.
Jace was silent, then his voice dipped lower, gentler. “Not even just to brush against your cheek?”
“I’m not sure how this is relevant to what we were talking about,” I mumbled.
He chuckled. “Well, I assumed you were worried about whether I would try to touch you again, like what happened last time.”
“…Okay?”
I flinched as his hand suddenly crossed the short distance between us, and he pushed a finger under my chin to raise my head. I stiffened at the contact and looked anxiously at Jace.
Jace’s lips tipped up just slightly at the corners. “If I touch you a little each day, you’ll eventually get acclimated to it.”
My throat tightened. “I—Why? Why would I need that? You could… could just not touch me.”
“I’ve been thinking about the Light a lot,” he said, catching me off guard.
I lit up in excitement, momentarily forgetting about his lingering touch. “Really? I’m so glad, Jace! Oh, we must tell Father—”
A breath of laughter. His finger slid up from my chin to lightly press against my lips.
I startled, but somehow stood still, letting out a soft gasp at the feeling of his rough skin.
“Shh.”
My breath stuttered.
“I realized that the Light has been telling me to do this—to touch you,” he whispered. My eyes widened. “This is how it wants me to worship you, Elior.”
“But—”
Jace tapped my lips. “I feel it so strongly. It didn’t feel like this before. Sure, I was interested in it, enough to come here, but now… Now I feel it, Elior. And when I touch you, it feels like you’re absolving me of my past sins.”
“Oh, uh…” my voice wobbled. “Um…”
“Please, let me do this. I feel like I’m connected to the Light like this. I know it’s not how the rest of the congregation worships you, but…”
I furrowed my brows, trying to understand. He didn’t look like he was teasing me. He seemed surprisingly serious, actually.
“Are you joking with me?” I asked quietly.
“No,” he answered, sounding sincere. I shivered as his fingertip moved from my lips to rest on my jaw.
I examined his face again for any signs of deceit, but found none.
My throat bobbed as I swallowed.
He believed this.
Or at least, he looked like he did.
If the Light really was working through him—if that was why Jace said he felt it so intensely when he touched me—then who was I to stop that? Who was I to deny him something sacred?
My heart thudded uncomfortably against my ribs.
“It’s still…” I whispered, licking my lips again because they felt tight and dry, “It’s still strange.”
“I know.” His voice gentled even further. “But strange doesn’t mean wrong, does it? It’s just different.”
I dropped my eyes to the ground so that I could think. My thoughts kept tangling themselves up in the way he looked at me, in the heat radiating off his hand.
If another member came to me and said they felt closer to the Light when they prayed beside me, I would agree without hesitation.
If someone said they needed guidance or wanted to kneel near me or hold my hands during worship, I would never refuse. That was what I was here for.
So why was this any different?
He wasn’t touching me inappropriately. Not really.
It just made me feel a bit… unsteady.
And if it really helped him feel the Light—if touching me brought him closer to something holy—wasn’t that good? Wasn’t that what I should want?
I lifted my head again, shyly meeting his gaze.
“Jace,” I said softly, “I don’t really understand, but if this is what helps you…” I watched as his pupils dilated at my words. “I just… I’m not sure Father would approve.”
His thumb grazed my lower lip—so lightly I wasn’t even sure it really happened.
“Maybe not,” he said immediately, firm but gentle. “But do you think it’s the right thing to do? You’re the Vessel, Elior. Shouldn’t you get to make some decisions too? Especially for how someone worships you.”
I slowly nodded, even as my stomach twisted. “O-okay,” I whispered. “If this helps you feel the Light… then I won’t stop you.”
The relief that flickered across his face was quick, but unmistakable.
And when he raised his hand again—very carefully this time, as if giving me every chance to pull away—I forced my breath to stay steady.
I didn’t move.
His fingers brushed the side of my cheek, warm and soft and unbearably gentle. A tremor went through me. Not fear—not exactly. More like my body didn’t know what to do with something so foreign.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
It’s fine, I told myself.
It’s not wrong.
It’s for the Light.
It’s for him.
It’s not inappropriate.
It’s just… touch.
Touch that made my pulse race and my mind go blurry and my heart feel too big.
But I stayed still.
And Jace, sounding almost reverent, breathed, “Thank you, Elior.”
I wasn’t sure why that made my legs feel weak.
But it did.
Jace’s hand dropped back to his side, and he smiled at me.
“Um… we’ll just…”
“Not tell Father?”
My stomach hurt hearing those words. And although I hated keeping a secret from Father, I’d done it before.
Like, sometimes I didn’t write down what people told me during confession because I didn’t want Father to punish them.
And I hadn’t told him about Jace touching my foot either.
Or when I saw the younger girls slacking off on their chores.
“Yeah…” I breathed shakily.
“Right.” Jace’s smile widened, warm enough to soften the knot in my stomach. “Our little secret.”
I nodded, though the words made my chest feel tight. Secrets were dangerous things. But the way he said it made it feel less like hiding and more like… something shared. Something just between us.
We started walking again, our steps falling naturally into place beside each other. For a few seconds, I was too aware of everything—my cheek still buzzing faintly where he’d touched me, the morning air brushing against the warmth he left behind, the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.
Jace kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, like he was trying not to smile too big.
We continued down the path, past the garden beds where a few early risers were tending the soil. I kept my gaze lowered, but every so often I caught Jace looking around with a thoughtful frown, as if calculating or assessing something. It reminded me that he was always watching, always thinking.
But with me, he didn’t seem to be analyzing. He just seemed present.
“You still nervous about confession night?” he asked.
I hesitated. “A little. But I feel better about it now that you’ve confided in me.”
“Want a distraction?”
I tilted my head. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jace reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and round. “Like this.”
He held up a pecan.
I blinked. “…Where did you get that?”
“Stole it,” he whispered conspiratorially.
My eyes widened. “You stole it?”
“From a squirrel.”
A startled laugh burst out of me before I could stop it—too loud, too clear, and utterly impossible to smother back down. It came out bright and surprised, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, horrified.
Jace grinned triumphantly. “There it is.”
“I-I shouldn’t laugh,” I stammered behind my fingers. “That’s terrible!”