“Father,” she recognized him for what he was. A reverend, her superior, someone she had insulted in a house of worship. Lumine couldn't help the way longing framed the word as it left her mouth. She had a shameful weakness around authority figures; her craving for guidance, for a parental figure to save her, had always made her attach quickly. Those blue eyes slid back up to her, and she felt warmth coil in her gut that almost made her sick.
