He was willing to give a name, and that was more than enough for Malachi.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

The circumstances could have been better, but there was truth to it, all the same. Edmund seemed a kind enough kid, even wary as he was, and it was obvious how much he cared for his sister.

That was more important to the priest than any hesitance or irritation he’d been met with thus far.

Still, their appearance on the street begged the question of why they were out here all alone. Being new, shouldn’t they have some sort of guardian around that’d surely helped them find their way to Whitby? Malachi didn’t touch on that, not yet, but it lingered at the back of his mind as he led them at a casual pace.

“I am, yes. St. Hilda’s needed a new parish priest,” he said first, while he considered how to answer the boy’s question. It was a simple one that should have had an easy answer, but it didn’t. There were far too many answers of varying truths.

He came from London, in part. From Joseon, originally. From a small village’s church that Edmund likely wouldn’t have ever even heard of, more recently.

The street widened out some as he led them off of the smaller path and onto the main one.

“I was at a different church, in a town too small to be worth mentioning,” Malachi admitted. “I grew up in London, though. What about you two?”