The child awoke a couple of hours later in a bed, groggily he slowly sat up on the bed.

Lord Fallbrook was seated in a chair directly to his right, the thought that he had probably been watching him sleep sent shivers down his spine.

“I’m going to hazard a guess that the fact I’m not dead means Ms. Fallbrook is doing better.”

“She is. The curse isn’t gone but she’s doing better.” He stood up as he spoke.

“Good to hear.” He replied cautiously, unsure why Lord Fallbrook had decided to stand.

“I didn’t have the chance to say this on account of you fainting,” He proceeded to give a deep bow, “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

“...” The child stayed silent for a short while, unsure of how to respond. He had expected questions, accusations. Something along the lines of ‘why is the curse not gone yet?’.

“You’re welcome?”

With that Lord Fallbrook stood back up straight, gave a brief nod, and proceeded to leave the room.

“Wait.” Lord Fallbrook stopped, turning back to face him. “Was that it? You waited at my bedside just to say thanks?”

“Yes.”

“But don’t you have questions about me, for all you know I am the one who cursed your daughter.”

Lord Fallbrook took his time to respond.

“This was the first time in two years that I heard my daughter’s voice, and I have you to thank for that. You could leave right now without even telling me your name, and I would still be nothing but grateful.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“The only thing you should worry about right now is getting enough rest. If you want to talk after that, you can come find me then.”

“Damien.” The child muttered before he could leave, “My name is Damien.”

“Well, Damien. I’m Francis Fallbrook, a pleasure to finally meet you.”

-

About half a month had passed since Damien had arrived at Fallbrook manor.

It had been relatively uneventful since the first day. After he and Lord Fallbrook had come to an agreement about the coming arrangement, things had become almost routine.

Once a day Damien would work on his daughter’s condition, in exchange he was allowed to stay at the manor and spend the rest of the day however he wanted.

On top of that his payment would be as follows: two sets of traveling clothes, a steel sword, and a flute.

The clothes were mostly hand-me-downs from Lord Fallbrook’s old days in the knighthood, which meant the shirts had to be cut to size, and every piece felt a little baggy.

The sword was also from his old days in the knighthood, not his actual blade but a spare that every good knight made sure to carry around. But the spare blade of a knight was still the blade of a knight. And for a blade that had not been used for quite some time, it had been dutifully maintained, retaining an edge just as sharp as the day it was forged.

The flute was an issue, an issue he was trying to solve.

“Fwoot.”

“The sound is a little off.” He tossed it aside with the growing carpet of faulty, wooden flutes.

Carving the wood was not an issue, the manor had a decent carving knife that was used to repair and replace the wooden structure.

And there were plenty of trees in the nearby forest, all he needed to start was a branch with a long enough section of straight wood.

No, the issue was the sound. He knew how to make a wooden tube that made noises, but it looked like he’d need an actual craftsman to make it.

That is when a noise came at him through the trees.

The sound of a flute, a proper one.

“I heard you were looking for a flute, and I just so happen to have one.”

A strange, hooded man in the forest bearing gifts.

He brandished his knife as the man continued to step closer, preparing for a fight.