The Wooden Horse

In a seaside village where the distant clang of mining stamps mingles with the low hum of herring‑boats, a young man stands before a towering mirror, fussing with his tie. Robin Trojan, twenty and raised in the strict, aristocratic traditions of his family, has not seen his father for eighteen years, yet the anticipated reunion looms now. The opulent drawing‑room, lit by electric lamps and filled with Louis XIV furniture, reflects both his cold elegance and the restless tension that drives his thoughts.

As the clock ticks toward the expected arrival, Robin battles with the stubborn knot of his tie, a small but telling struggle that mirrors his larger uncertainty about the man who left him as a child. The scene sets a tone of genteel restraint clashing with the raw edge of a life lived in the shadows of family legacy, inviting listeners to explore the quiet drama of expectation, identity, and the thin line between duty and desire.