The old woman settled deeper into her chair and began.
"After six years we were celebrating our young lady's fifth birthday. She was the daughter of Lady Mirena who had married a noble six years before."
"Everything was going as it should be. Lively as ever, everyone was dancing, enjoying themselves."
Then her tone shifted.
"I was serving drinks at that time when the doors broke apart."
She paused. Swallowed something painful.
"And there stood a man in a black blanket. I recognised him in an instant. He had those same blue eyes, same black hair and that same face. It was Dorian."
Her grip on her walking stick tightened.
"But something about him was wrong. His skin which was barely visible under that robe looked grey and there were dark markings around his neck and arms like his veins had been filled with ink."
I could feel even Aria beside me had gone still. Listening.
