Sitting alone on his bed in the Knot wave inn, illuminated only by the light of a dimmed lantern, Fortu cradles the silver music box on his lap and listens to the gentle tune until it winds down to silence.
The Witch; Megarna had teased him with information about his mother and tried to use it to distract him from his mission for Lord Urdurel. He’d distrusted the woman when he’d first met her pretending to be a fortune teller back in Scarborough and he trusted her even less now.
Still, she’d been surprisingly bold, considering her age and obvious frailty. It’s almost as if she’d wanted him to strike her down…
A knock on the door announces Rifkin’s presence before he enters their shared room, giving him time to wipe his eyes.
Fortu only recognises the artfully crafted music box from his dream, but the music? It stirs up something deep inside of him; Comfort, warmth… Love.
Could these three raised relief portraits truly be of him as a baby, his wild haired, gypsy mother and his handsome father?
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