George Hardwick III Posted March 1, 2017 Share Posted March 1, 2017 He'd hoped to talk to somebody unofficially about it, Basildon, Shaftesbury, or Norfolk -- was there anyone else he knew to ask? But really a mans choices were always his own. George's had always been thus (though of course his trail of decisions had run from 'poor' to 'worse' in the past.) Reassurance would have been... reassuring. And he had many questions. But the first step that he could fathom, was his conversion to Anglicanism, which allow his completion of the first requirment for a political career. For a career where he might achieve something with his life. So it was that George entered the Chapel that morning. The Royal Chapel Close by to the Banqueting House exists the Royal Chapel. Seven broad stone steps lead up to the old building; grand arched double doors are wide open. Within, great vaulted wooden ceilings capture a great volume of air above the congregation - high above heavenly depictions look lovingly upon the mahogany pews. Candles flicker in sconces, the building itself is not overly well lit - behind the altar stained glass windows filter the light in a brilliance of colours. A priest moves quietly about lighting tapers, available to tend to the needs of the flock. It was not the first time he'd been here, he'd attended a service last year, had felt awkward and uncertain, not sure of what he thought to do. This time, he was bolder of it, his mind was settled upon the course. He looked about for a priest, to whom he could speak. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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