The slight stirring of the air beside him had Hannibal opening his eyes to look at what was happening. He saw Erik caught up in the music, and the younger Doctor Lecter dissolving into the melody. Sad as it was, he noted something within the boy that he didn't have himself. It amazed him that such a thing could be discovered again after all these years.
Hannibal had given himself to the Lady once upon a time, hoping that she would not tell him to stop. That she would give him the permission he didn't really need to continue his work. His vengeance. But she had told him he had to choose, and he couldn't choose her. It seemed to him that he was looking at the boy who had not lost his family in the first place, who had not known the horrors of that day. Who had not then seen his sister consumed by men who did not yet know they were dead.
But there was something more. As the boy at the piano turned his face slightly, Hannibal noted a line. His eyes flicked around to see where the reflection might be coming from, and found nothing. His focus sharpened.
The line, upon closer inspection, appeared to be light. The light, when he studied it, seemed to be shining from the inside out. All of Hannibal's attention was now granted to the one on stage, the music a sorrow filled accent.