The next morning, as Alina walked to the east garden, Dorian was already on the path. When he saw her, he adjusted his path smoothly, making it look like an accident to anyone watching.
"Miss Ashworth," he said looking more confident today. "I hope the music box brought you some comfort."
Alina instead of answering with words, answered with her expression instead. She looked like the woman who had received something deeply personal and was still moved by it.
"The melody," she said, looking at the garden instead of at him. "My mother used to sing it every night. I hadn't heard it since she died."
"I had an idea you might recognize it."
"I recognized it on the first note," she said with a smile. "Where did you find it?"
"Astoria's cultural archives are quite extensive. We have scholars who specialize in eastern music. The melody is catalogued as a traditional Arcasedian lullaby, passed through families for generations," he lied smoothly.
