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Gold and gleaming, the interior of the Grand Cathedral glinted in the sunlight that streamed through its glass windows. The reflection shone as though even the walls themselves wept for the solemn procession inside.
Rows of pews had been assembled for this very occasion, wooden benches devoid of all signs of wear awaiting the mourners who began to fill the space. They entered individually, some long after others, for Laurence made it clear this gathering should not draw the attention of the rest of Yharnam. He knew Maria to be a skilled Hunter, and her loss was indeed devastating, but he could not compromise his work by enabling its untimely discovery.
As Vicar, he should've been practising the sermon he would preach to the congregation, but his mind was swimming amongst the many faces, waiting for one who had yet to arrive.
He'd told Gehrman an earlier time than the others - inappropriate for such an affair, he knew, but he wished to be by his side at what would certainly be an onerous period for him. Gehrman had been close to Maria as though a father figure, Laurence supposed, and it was surprising he hadn't offered to act as a pallbearer. Perhaps the day ahead was more difficult for him than Laurence expected and Gehrman merely required more time.
Straightening his white robes, its lengthy sleeves hanging down to his knees, Laurence inhaled deeply. Now was not the time to let his feelings obscure his responsibilities. He'd come so far establishing this organisation against Master Willem's warnings - the old fool knew little of what he was capable of achieving. He planned soon to distribute the Healing Blood to the poorest of citizens in Old Yharnam, an initiative that would turn the fate of this decrepit city for good.
Laurence had almost used this anchor to return his thoughts back to the funeral at hand until he saw a familiar pair of pale eyes peek beneath the rim of a wrinkled top hat. Though his head was slightly bowed, Gehrman stood tall, greeting none of the Hunters that approached him as he ambled past. He wore a suit, unusual for him though fitting for the occasion, and twisted a bouquet of white lilies between his fingers.
Taking a seat in the front row, he stared emptily ahead to the open casket positioned before the altar. Laurence's eyes followed until he found himself gazing at Lady Maria's pale face, her platinum hair arranged daintily around her head where in life it was always tied high. Glancing back to Gehrman, he frowned, noticing how his eyes shone as he removed the hat from his grey hair, running an arm along his brow before placing the bouquet beside him.
The other Hunters, Choir and Healing Church members watched Laurence keenly, awaiting his announcement for them to take their seats.
"Gathered ladies and gentlemen," he announced, clearing his throat. "We’ll begin shortly, but there are first a few others due to attend. Let us give them a little longer."
In truth, he’d noted that all invitees were in attendance. Laurence used to be alarmed at how easily the lies would fall from his tongue, but as he saw his deceit in Byrgenwerth blossom into something greater, each falsehood paving the foundation for this very cathedral to be built, no longer did he feel shame for such things. Instead, he sat himself beside Gehrman, grateful that the continuing mutters in the background would mask the conversation at hand.
His heart began to flutter, his stomach lightening as he assessed his friend's reaction. There was neither greeting nor refusal; Gehrman simply remained staring at the casket ahead.
"I hope today brings you the peace you deserve after the tragic circumstances of her death." Laurence cursed himself inwardly, his words were an understatement to say the least. Lady Maria had taken her own life, a loss far more arduous on one's being than a natural death.
"My own peace matters little to me," Gehrman replied, his voice hoarse. "It's her I worry after. There's talk of another plane of existence after this, a place where Kos will punish us for our actions. I don't suppose you know anything of it."
"I'm afraid I know only as much as you do." For once, Laurence found himself regretting how he’d drifted off every time Micolash started on one of his various rambling tirades about the Great One they'd found stranded across the shore of the Fishing Hamlet. "But I can certainly enquire more, if it's of comfort to you."
Gehrman nodded with a pain in his expression deeper than Laurence imagined there would be, an over-encompassing sea of sorrow that seemed to drown him in its depths, whisking him further away by the moment.
"Would you like to see her now?" Laurence asked, placing a hand over one of Gehrman's. "Before the service begins officially."
"If you don't mind." Gehrman’s eyes trailed to his touch, offering a smile weighed down by his grief. "Thank you, Vicar. For everything."
As he withdrew and rose to his feet, taking the flowers with him, Laurence required a few moments to gather himself. Gehrman's skin had been frigid, and despite the warmth he’d provided, the very address of 'Vicar' had been so impersonal given their long-standing friendship over the years.
Blinking a few times, Laurence followed after, flustered to know so many eyes were upon them. There was nothing to fear, for he was merely taking a mourner closer to the deceased, yet he could not help but fret over how others might perceive his actions. This was a funeral after all, far from the time or place where he should act at the whim of such unholy impulses.
As the one to establish the Healing Church, Laurence was aware that in theory, he could sanctify anything he desired. Still, blood rushed within his cheeks as he dreaded how Yharnam society might take his love for a man, how many would turn from him if they were to uncover this shameful secret. Worst of all, how might Gehrman take such a revelation? Laurence shuddered at the very thought, swearing to never let his heart's desire be known lest he were to lose the company of his friend altogether.
An odd sound came from beside him, a noise like shuffling though there was no one else other than Gehrman nearby. It was only as Laurence saw him reach into his pocket for a handkerchief that he realised he'd been weeping.
"Oh, Gehrman," Laurence said softly, reaching an arm across his shoulders. "She was a wonderful woman and I'm most sorry for your loss. Anything I can offer to ease your sorrow, simply ask and I'll see to it that it's done."
"Can you bring her back?" Gehrman cried out, pulling away. "Can you?"
Laurence's eyes skirted around to the onlookers, a few Hunters whispering to each other with narrowed eyes.
"I loved her." Gehrman's voice was little more than a whisper as he spoke. "I still love her."
"Of course," Laurence replied, nodding slowly. "She was like a daughter to you."
"What?" Gehrman replied, frowning as he took a step back. "You've misunderstood me."
"How so?" Laurence felt the pattering within his chest transition to a thudding, racing far faster than it ever had before.
"I was in love with her." Gehrman had leant his face close to Laurence's, his words lingering in the air. Shaking his head, he sighed deeply. "Forgive me, Laurence. I've never admitted that aloud before."
Laurence remained stiff as Gehrman dropped the lilies onto Maria's chest and sobbed before him, a tear threatening to slither down his own cheek. All those years of hope and longing had been for nothing, at last he had a definitive answer. Gehrman's heart had bound itself to a woman, the one who lay before them with emerald eyes unblinking as they remained fixed upon the window shedding its light from above.
Laurence offered a small smile as he reached for Gehrman's arm, gesturing for him to return to the pews. He then nodded to Yurie, who stood before the rest of the Choir in their white robes and curved headdresses that fell forwards into attached blindfolds. They had positioned themselves to the left of the cathedral, the music of their voices swelling around the space. The scuffling of feet swiftly died out as everyone took their seats.
At last, Laurence found his head clear enough to practice the sermon in his head once and then again. Taking his place ahead of the casket, he took a deep breath, waiting for the music to still. When the place fell silent, the last echoes of the Choir fading into nothing, Laurence could feel Gehrman's stare burn him to the core. No matter what, he would still be there for him in any way he could be. For now, that meant ensuring his sermon was delivered with a serenity to quell the aching heart that burdened his dear friend.
"By the Healing Blood." Laurence forced his gaze to wander to the sea of faces ahead, slipping on the title of Vicar as one would a mask. "I wish, of course, for us to celebrate the life of a remarkable woman and Hunter, without which the Healing Church would've been unable to resist the worst of beasts. But it feels unjust for me not to use Lady Maria's example as a lesson for us all. If we're to learn anything from her life, let it be this: do not let your secrets overwhelm you, for only tragedy awaits those who face their hidden shadows alone."
The irony of his words clung to him as he ascertained the hushed whispers and exchanged frowns from the gathered mourners. Laurence was swift to continue, his words of remembrance and the glory of Maria's efforts in life enough to brush aside his opening statement from their minds.
Deep inside, however, Laurence knew that of all his own concealed secrets, there was one he couldn't push back down. Neither his betrayal of Master Willem nor the innumerable test subjects he'd required for failed experimentation with the blood had ever seized him quite so sharply. Of all the evils he'd buried away, he never would've suspected forbidden love to bring him such pain, to twist his viscera day after day, wringing them dry only for the process to repeat itself.
As the mourners shed their many tears, Laurence silently joined them, only now feeling guilt at his selfishness. There was something bittersweet about it all, an unspoken bond this funeral had created between himself and Gehrman. Whilst Laurence knew he could never be with the one he loved, Gehrman too would forever be separated from the one his heart had fallen for. And in this shared anguish, Laurence found the strangest comfort that in this small way, they were one.