[s7e7] Untainted By Filth ❲FHD — 360p❳

Silas let out a dry, humorless laugh that echoed sharply in the quiet church. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook, its edges charred and stained. "The Bishop is a fool who thinks holiness is measured by the whiteness of his surplice. Real purity isn't the absence of dirt, Beatrice. It's the ability to walk through the deepest, darkest mire and come out the other side with your soul still intact."

"At what cost, Silas?" Beatrice asked, her eyes tracing a fresh, angry red scar that ran along his jawline. "Look at you. You are bleeding, exhausted, and hunted. You live in the filth you fight." [S7E7] Untainted by Filth

Beatrice leaned on her broom, studying him. She had known Silas since they were children in this very village, long before he had left to join the capital's elite investigative force, and long before he had returned broken, cynical, and obsessed with the dark underbelly of the city. Silas let out a dry, humorless laugh that

"The Bishop is asking questions about your presence here," she warned him softly. "He says a man of your... reputation... does not belong in a place dedicated to purity. He says you bring the grime of the world in with you." Real purity isn't the absence of dirt, Beatrice

Silas stepped into the nave, pulling off a mud-spattered leather greatcoat. He looked entirely out of place beneath the soaring, vaulted ceilings and the serene gaze of the painted saints. His face was gaunt, his eyes rimmed with the dark circles of a man who hadn’t slept in three days, yet there was a manic energy in the way he moved.