By the time I finally emerged from the convent Michael and Romeo had given up their vigil outside. They were nowhere to be seen in any of the surrounding streets but it didn’t take me long to figure out where they might have gone. Returning to our usual tavern, I soon spotted them occupying a corner table. Somewhere along the way they seemed to have picked up a wandering lute player who was busy serenading them with a peculiarly mournful dirge of a tune. Romeo was swaying along, his eyes closed and an expression of intense emotion fixed upon his face, Michael looked like he wished he was just about anywhere else. As Michael’s eyes went skipping around the room, possibly in search of some means of escape, he was the first to notice my entrance and hurried over to greet me whilst Romeo was still wrapped up in the music. Continue reading
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