Page 106 of The Darkest Oath

“You remember us?” He asked with a scrunched brow. “After all these years?”

“Yes, I remember all of my patients,” she said.

“But I was never your patient.” Her face came to him. “Sister Francine,” he said.

“No, but you were a haunted man, one I pray for.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Wanting to love but afraid to,” she whispered.

His jaw fell agape. “How did?—”

She shook her head as if it were not important.

“What are you doing here?” he asked instead.

“I pledged my allegiance to God, the true king. For my crime, I am due for execution in the morning at the order of the Revolutionary Tribunal.”

Rollant sighed. His shoulders slumped as he leaned against the door and slid down.

“I will be in paradise soon. Do not be sad for me.” Her voice soothed his angst.

“You may think me a fool, but I envy you,” he said, hoping he could finally share his secret with someone who had least cared to remember him.

“You could have eternal life as well,” Sister Francine said with a gentle smile.

“No, God has cast me out. I’ve made too many mistakes.”

“Nothing separates you from God except your?—”

“No, Sister,” Rollant said and drew a deep breath. She was not a priest, but he hadn’t been to confession in centuries. His head hung on his chest. “I accepted magic, and now I cannot die. I am immortal.”

Her silence mocked him. She didn’t believe him. He looked up at the stone wall across the way. He rolled forward to stand, but at her whisper, he paused.

“Magic is a serious offense, but nothing is too serious if you keep your focus on God,” Sister Francine said, watching him.

He sat back. “I feel as if God has forsaken me. I spat in His face by becoming immortal, trading the natural for the supernatural as he is.”

Sister Francine nodded, but hummed in debate. “You’re immortal, you say, but were you born?”

“Yes, in 1122,” Rollant whispered.

“If you were born, you have a beginning, and you will have an end,” she said with absolute certainty. “Your body is not eternal.”

“But when? When will it end?” he asked, feeling as if he were about to confess six hundred years of sins to her. The overwhelming sense of losing control made him shut his mouth.

Sister Francine reached through the bars and stroked Rollant’s cheek. “Perhaps it is not when you die, but when you choose to live,” Sister Francine said.

“Live?” He scoffed. “What is life?”

“Life is love,” Sister Francine said.

“No, life is pain. I should never have fallen in love with Élise or let her fall in love with me.”

"You say life is pain, but I say life is love," Sister Francine said softly. "Pain is a part of love, yes, but it is also the proof of it. Why would God let your heart ache for Élise if not to show you that it still beats?"

Rollant winced at the truth in her sentiment. His indifference had melted away when he fell in love. “But I told her to marry another, one she could have a future with.”

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