Read Online The Prince by Tiffany Reisz - Free Book Online

opened his mouth.
    “Jesus said to him, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and the first commandment.”
    “Very good, Mr. Stearns. And what does this verse have to do with our discussion of the mind and the heart?”
    “Jesus makes a distinction between the mind and the heart and the soul. They are separate entities.”
    Separate entities? Kingsley’s eyes widened at Stearns’s words. Who was teaching the class?
    “Is this proof that the mind and heart and soul are completely separate and have nothing to do with each other?” Father Robert continued. He waved his hand at the ten students in the class, as if trying sweep answers out of their mouths. None were forthcoming.
    “Mr. Stearns?”
    Stearns sat up an inch straighter. “Not necessarily. The baptismal formula that decrees to baptize ‘in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit’ was used as proof by the First Council of Constantinople that while the Trinity contained three distinct persons, they were one as well as three. When Jesus tells us to love God with our heart, soul and mind, He is telling us that they are three and one, just as the Godhead.”
    “Very good, Mr. Stearns. Now, if you’ll turn in your catechisms…”
    As the class opened their books, Kingsley could only continue to stare at Stearns. The clouds outside the window parted a moment and a ray of sunshine—not seen for days—filled the classroom with white light. Kingsley could count every single eyelash that rimmed Stearns’s eyes. And until the sun hid itself behind a cloud again, Kingsley ceased to breathe.
    The sun disappeared. He exhaled. Stearns turned his head and met Kingsley’s unapologetic stare.
    Kingsley knew he should look away. Politeness demanded it of him. Discretion demanded it of him. If he didn’t stop staring, he had a feeling Father Robert and Stearns himself would demand it of him.
    But he couldn’t look away, any more than he could have looked away had he come face-to-face with God Himself.
    As Peter read from the catechism, Stearns stood up and, without asking permission, left the classroom. Father Robert didn’t say a word to stop him, merely continued the conversation with the other students. Kingsley’s heart pounded, his hands clenched. Had he been sitting in a Judas chair he couldn’t have been any more uncomfortable.
    After ten seconds of trying to hold still, he got up and followed Stearns.
    Once in the hall, Kingsley looked around wildly. No
Stearns to be seen. Which way had he gone? Out the front? The back? Upstairs?
    Kingsley had no idea why he’d been seized with this mania, this absolute need to follow Stearns. But he’d done it now, left class without permission. No going back.
    He heard the ringing of footsteps on the tile floor echoing off the concrete walls. Racing toward the sound, Kingsley found Stearns pacing the foyer between the third and fourth stories, a small Bible in his hand.
    Stearns stopped in his pacing and faced Kingsley. He didn’t speak. Kingsley opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
    “You left,” he finally said, reverting to French. Vous avez quitté.
    Vous? They were the same, students in the same school. Why did Kingsley automatically use vous instead of the more familiar tu?
    “Tu as quitté aussi.” You also left.
    Tu. Not vous.
    “I followed you.” Kingsley felt beyond foolish, stating the obvious. But he had no other words, no other reason. What could he explain? He was here because he was here. “Why did you leave?”
    Stearns glared at him before turning back to his pacing.
    “I’m allowed to leave.”
    “I know that. You’re allowed to do anything you want. But that doesn’t answer the question.” Kingsley stared at him, dropped the English and asked again in French. “Pourquoi?”
    “You were staring at me.”
    Once, Kingsley had heard some phrase about discretion and valor, something his mother had