Go to the classroom.

The Archdeacon isn't one to forget. Whatever he has to say, he will remember in exacting detail for later. You also remind yourself, that despite his stern behavior at first, he frequently crumbles into a softie before too long, and while he won't forget what you did, he may no longer care by the time you are done with the children. You hurry to them, in the small stone structure used as a classroom. These children, while you have them, are your biggest priority. The church runs two schools; a prestigious private school for patrician members to send their families to, and a second smaller class for remedial education of those who otherwise would not have any education; orphans, all of them. Each of the children feels like one of yours until they are taken in, and you empathize with their predicament. You're an orphan yourself, and you were in this same building as a child.

Seeing yourself in their position is all the more reason for you to be hard on them. They settled down a few moments, and especially after you grab the narrow wooden pointer from the front, used on the knuckles of the openly disobedient. This is rare; most of the children recognize you and the other Sisters as the few to genuinely care, and they fear your disappointment than they do a moment of pain. With this, the group is diligent in it's work, more knowledgeable students encouraged to help younger and less educated so that you can provide help to those who really need it. Otherwise, the classroom is very quiet until a sudden interruption.

A man barges into your class and hovered in the doorway, surveying the area. He was clearly not a member of the clergy. By his cleaned hair, ruffled shirt and slight pudge, he is likely wealthy. You fear this might turn into and steeled yourself, praying this would not turn into an altercation in front of the children. You try to shoo him away as quickly as he came in, to little avail

"Excuse me sir but you can't just walk about this churchyard wherever you'd like. This is a classroom and these students are working very hard. Unless there is an emergency you have to leave."

"I was told that this was a school. Given my hard earned coin is going to pay to care for this rabble, I have a right to see this myself, and that my money is put to good use. By the shambles I see here, it seems not"

You can feel your face got hot, and not in the fun way. You close the distance between the two of you, stopping him from getting any further "And I suspect that with your ten seconds of observation that you expect the church to give you your coins back? Absolute nonsense. These children have known more hardship in one day than you have in your entire life, and we strive to give them every opportunity that they can"

"For what purpose? So they go back on to the street as educated purse thieves and whores? Put them to the work in the mills where they can actually do some good for society"

This was the last straw. You rush to your desk to remove something. Storming towards him, you pull his hand out and put a single gold coin in it "There, a recompense for your waisted time. You will need it to see a physician..." You see the man's voice contort and begin to ask why, but you lash out before the sound leaves his mouth, lashing his leg with your pointer stick. He howls in pain and grabs at his leg as he glares at you in vengeance "You demonic Bitch! You'll suffer for this" and he leaves quietly.

The energy in the room is chaotic and nervous, and you have to spend a lot of time to try to get the children to calm down and refocus on their work. You are able to regain control and feel that the children made good progress for the day. The sun is nearly setting, and Archdeacon Doolyn is waiting for you as the children leave, leaning on his cane. The sternness on his face from this morning is absent, replaced with a look of concern.

"Demetria, is there something you need to tell me about today?"

"Yes sir" you respond somberly. He's asking this question because he knows the answer, and lying won't help "There was a man who interjected into class and demeaned our good work, and the students. I lashed out against him, and it was wrong"

Doolyn took a deep breath as he exhaled a large breath. "I know. Had I been in your position, and been your age, I likely would have done the same thing. You are protecting the children from ridicule, embarrassment, and possibly even worse, and it's your natural instinct to do so"

"So, you aren't mad?"

"I am angry, but not with you. I know as much as we want to look at actions as clearly good and clearly bad, the world is filled with ambiguity. Our work necessitates that we can parse through these difficult moments, and make the appropriate decisions."

The two of you walk through the courtyard slowly, heading back "like a tuning fork, a small event can have larger repercussions, and we have to ensure that our attempts at smaller goods do not in turn create larger wrongs."

You nod respectively "I understand"

Doolyn has a small smile as he looks at you, that grows as he speaks "similarly, a small wrong can become a much greater good. It was my great disappointment that we could never find someone who was willing to adopt you as their own child..." He stops and puts his free hand on your shoulder "And now look at you. You could run the church yourself, and you're hardly nineteen."

You are shocked by his compliment "s-s-Sir, I could never! I wouldn't know where to start!"

He chuckled at your response "Your passion and your faith is all you need. Everything else you can figure out as you go along. Now, help me to my office, we can speak more tomorrow, including how to ensure you're awake on time" As you suspected, he still remembered, but didn't care.