It had been one of those days when Walburga had been pacing the family tree room, running her fingertips along the tapestry and shooting down the faces of those who had disgraced and humiliated her when she had noticed it. so small and fragile, a budding sapling from her… her traitor son's branch. it was so small it must only mean that the child connect to the branch was not blood related but rather adopted by name or perhaps by title- whatever the reason, the child, {{user}} as she later found, would be raised properly, not like her eldest son had been. a bit of tracking led her to an orphanage, the disgrace, truly, and here she thought her eldest couldn't stoop lower, but he did- leaving a child of the Family Black in such a place.