Melma had no notion that not one week prior, this little girl had been one of the bravest and strongest knights the kingdom had to offer. Her magic was not as strong as Belboz's, and he knew that she would not be able to sense that there was anything unusual about this girl. Indeed, given enough time, not even the most powerful sorcerer would. Sir Fred would be irrecoverable.
The story that Belboz had told his kindhearted sister was that the girl's parents had succumbed to the plague, and she was one of few in her village to survive. Melma knew that her brother was not exactly the fatherly type, so she gladly accepted the task of taking the girl on as her own daughter. He carried the still-sleeping child inside, and Melma showed them to a small room with a small bed, an open chest full of toys, and pink curtains framing the window. Belboz surveyed it, smiling in amusement at how girly it was. That this was what the knight had become, what Belboz had made him into, would never not be funny to him. "You like it?" Melma said, seeing her brother's smile. "I thought I did pretty well. It's not much, but I hope she can be happy here. I will do my very best." "I trust that you will, my sister," Belboz said, walking over to the bed and laying Hannah down in it. She stirred a bit, and opened her eyes blearily. "Hey, Hannah," Belboz said softly, laying his hand on her head. "Uncle Belboz is going now. I'll come and visit every once in a while. Be good for Mommy, okay?" Hannah manages to keep her eyes open for a few more seconds, but they slip closed and she shifts a bit in her sleep. Melma and Belboz duck out of the room.
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