His House (4)

KNIGHT

I led Alana to the guest bedroom after we'd offered our prayers, feeling much more at ease now. It always felt like a burden had been taken off from my shoulders. There was dim lighting in the panelled hallways, illuminating the bifurcated shape of the stairs, ornate chandeliers and a few old photographs of Demir and I that Alana paused by.

"That's you?!" I didn't like her disbelieving tone. "You had a moustache?!"

I ripped the small photo frame from the wall and slammed it upside-down on the table upfront. Then, I made a condemning noise in the back of my throat. "Don't snoop,"

"Aww," she was already moving forward to scan another picture, completely ignoring my statement. "That's your brother, right? I don't know why I imagined him to be old like you."