Well, he supposed neither of them needed that mask. The church certainly didn’t either, but the thought of a parishioner stumbling across it did… amuse him, a bit.

There was little time to think of it regardless, for as soon as he got a proper look at the state of Arthur in the light, Malachi forgot the mask entirely.

He didn’t look like he was doing as well as he so flippantly claimed. Not at all.

The priest steeled himself with a deep breath and followed after him, catching up to walk at his side within moments. Malachi stood as tall and straight as he always did, no trace of pain crossing his pale features, and linked his bruised hands neatly behind his back.

“And if they happen to run into this person I hate?” he inquired with a curious lift of his brow, but a subtle smile betrayed his amusement with the idea. As much as he hated for the doctor to lie to him, he did so appreciate his shared willingness to lie to someone else.

Malachi turned and shouldered open the door, holding it with his back until Arthur could pass through.

Without so much as a shift in tone, as soon as they were outside, he asked, “did you really kill that man in Ravenscar?”