[ all the while, kaveh watches. the red of his eyes always tend to fall on the cuffs, and without fail, melancholy rises to his face. they do not need to be blood of his blood for him to feel anguished over them. no matter which nation they hail from, which kingdom they belong to, it is not a sight he is used to, not a sight he enjoys.
the only time he breaks contact with them is when they set down the jewelry stand, and there, he finds old gifts he could have sworn he would never see again. the same pair of earrings his parents had gifted him in his coming of age celebration.
how? why? surely they should have been sold. surely the eremites would have made at least a good amount of mora if those ended in the market. when kaveh inspects them up close, there's no mistaking it. these aren't replicas.
no subject
the only time he breaks contact with them is when they set down the jewelry stand, and there, he finds old gifts he could have sworn he would never see again. the same pair of earrings his parents had gifted him in his coming of age celebration.
how? why? surely they should have been sold. surely the eremites would have made at least a good amount of mora if those ended in the market. when kaveh inspects them up close, there's no mistaking it. these aren't replicas.
he turns to look at alhaitham. ]
Where did you get these?