"A bit more warning, next time, [i]darling[/i], and maybe I'd have cleaned up. Put on a pretty smile." He bit back sarcastically, watching her face reappear. His expression darkened noticeably at the comment about the gods. Despite himself, he followed, strolling toward the hole in the wall, though he didn't take a step inside. Instead, he watched her from the otherside of the pile of rubble. 

"Their Gods are not mine." He said quietly, his eyes wandering not the bloody alter, but the glass mosaic in the wall behind it that made the large wall resemble a bright sun in the steady sky; the blues, whites, and golds glittered beautifully in the sunlight. When there was sunlight. 
He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much that she'd broken into the chapel. Why it set his nerves on edge that she wandered through the long-ago desecrated room, touched the blood-soaked altar. It had been ruined long before she came here, but, for reasons he didn't understand, he blamed her. This wretched woman who walked in like she owned it. 

"Get. Out." He said darkly, breathing more heavily than he meant to. He hated that she was touching the altar. Hated that she was stepping on the stains of all the lives lost. Not his Goddess, not anymore, not for decades, but these [i]people[/i] had been his. And he'd failed them.