Hesam bowed his head only slightly in greeting, “Archbishop...”

To look at, Vahid did not seem like the typical Assamite, if there was such a thing. Dressed in a cream linen and denim, he did - in fact - look rather ordinary, at least to the casual glance. Beneath his long hair, his features were somewhat handsome, though nothing special. Just a young Iranian, sight-seeing in London.

“How may I be of assistance?”