The Confessor was... well, he was not particularly enjoying himself and this lack of enjoyment only multiplied as each knife or other improvised weapon he put about his person made walking a lot more uncomfortable. The threat of something sharp poking into your important bits because you moved your legs the wrong way, well, not quite pleasant at all! The Confessor walked by a particularly interesting confection and was ever so tempted to take a bite, but even if he could find space for it in his quota of indulgences he simply could not risk the possibility that some nasty business was in it. 

Horacio walked onwards from the table, deciding he'd find something else to use his time on. He could of course break into prayer right into the midst of the place but well, as much as one shouldn't care for appearances when it comes to devotion to the God Emperor it would truly be unbecoming. 

The aging man decided to busy himself by sweeping his glance across the scene to see the status of all the Sisters and happening upon that of Lisbeth, grinned. He sauntered over just as she was finishing with him, in that special quiet way older people can when aiming to discipline someone. As the man moved to stand up the Confessor gave him a [i]bonk[/i] on the head with his rosarius, a bit of incense coming out to also choke the man as he struggled for breath. "Oh dear me, I do apologize. Your lordship please let me help you arise!" Horacio said, offering the man a hand which he was perhaps unwise to refuse. A knee came to his nose which flattened across his face and the Confessor gave a partially mock stumble, imitating the elderly clumsiness he knew too well. In this stumble he dropped one of the knives he stashed away, the keen monomolecular edge falling down to pin the Baron's hand to the ground. Satisfied with the effect, the Priest squatted down beside the fellow and brought his head up to rest on his shoulder as quite suddenly Horacio embraced the man and even caressed his back. 

"There-there…." he whispered. "I know you're not a bad man, but you're a bloody daft fellow if you thought you could try to solicit lewd acts from a Sister of Battle without repercussions. So I will tell you how it will go from here. You repent, you give alms, you lead an upstanding life being fair to your peasants and leading them by example in piety while distinguishing yourself from the other nobility by the very same piety. You will thus prosper and be smiled upon by the Emperor for - at heart - you most likely aren't a bad man. You can of course ignore my advice, but your life expectancy would thus be that of a babe upon a skewer in flame. Good day, citizen; Emperor guide your hand." Work finished, Horacio retrieved the knife and went decided that much like the Sisters he would now seek rest. 

The man waddled to his abode, not particularly bothering to undress as he dropped into his bed with thoughts racing. He was not sure of what forces were present here, so as a forethought he barricaded his door before giving it a few blessings. He made sure to organise a few notes to be ready to ask the so called Saint a few questions and he made sure to clean his weapons in preparation for all sorts of nefarious possibilities of the nature of the lass. Time passed as he considered all possibilities and he wasn't even aware as his eyes shut and he fell asleep. 

[hr] 

Quite serenely, the Confessor woke. He rose with a stretch, looking back as his hat fell off of his head. He placed thing back into his head after splashing some water on his face, feeling well rested. He sat down with a data slate for some quick reading until his eyes caught sight of what time it was. Not believing them right away he rubbed them and once making sure it really was time, Horacio smashed aside his improvised barricade with his power maul and ran on to meet the other Sisters. 

Reaching them just as he was in his last breaths, he greeted them cheerfully. "Top of the morning, Sisters!"