Christmas day came faster than Bruno had predicted it would. He, Heidi, their daughter Erika, his son-in-law Paul, and his grandchildren had all gathered for Christmas mass at the Hagia Sophia.
They walked into the building without ceremony. Just another face in the crowd. If it weren't for the fact that many of the people recognized their King, there would have been no attraction to the royal family whatsoever.
Bruno stood by his son-in-law as they greeted the parish before eventually finding their way to the pews.
There they knelt in silence as the service began. Bruno had never actually attended and Orthodox mass before.
The chanting began not from a single voice, but from many. It rose from somewhere unseen behind the iconostasis, low and resonant, swelling like a tide against the ancient stone. The cadence alone carried weight. It was less structured than the Latin masses he had known; less rigid, yet somehow older.
