Tag: letters

Storyline: The L’Envers Letter to the Dahlia

From the desk of His Grace Sebastien L’Envers, Duc of Namarre

Odilia,

I write this letter to you in fear that perhaps the news has reached you through other channels. But I pray to Elua you read this letter with an open heart. You know that I am your friend and I have been a companion of Gustav’s since we were children. I was the one that brought you together and I hope that you will trust me when I say all is not lost for you.

Many of the courtiers, powerful scions of impressive Houses, have been pressuring Gustav to take a wife, to solidify his rule with a queen that will give him an heir. Things moved too quickly for me to delay and they are coming here, to the City of Elua, women from across our country and beyond, all coming to try to catch his eye.

Odilia, I’m sorry. I know that this will hurt you to see him courted by these daughters of great and powerful kingdoms. But please, please don’t interfere. We must not give the traditionalists like the Duc de Chalasse reason to move against us. You must trust that I will do what I can for you and Gustav, but you mustn’t be here in the palace. International politics are delicate matters and I can only do what I can when I know that you aren’t working against me. I remember that night in the Dahlia Salon when I faced you on your grand chessboard, I remember how formidable you were.

Odilia, please. Please don’t do anything rash. I know you have a heart and I know it might be hurting, but you must trust me.

Or if you don’t trust me, trust him. Trust him and the love he has for you.

Signed,
S

Storyline: A Cereus Letter

From the desk of Dowayne Aliksandria nó Cereus
To: Manuel Cass’id, First Under-Prefect of the Cassiline Order

My dear friend,

It has been far too long since I have written to you and, for that, I am deeply sorry. I could tell you of the trials of the Night Court that have kept me busy, but you likely have heard about them already even if such gossip is, as you used to insist, beneath the dignity of a Cassiline brother.

Events of late have prompted me to think on the past and the paths that one might take. I value your advice and candor, and I am writing you now to ask your thoughts on a particular situation.

As you may well remember, I have been known to be fond of the company of Waldemar nó Mandrake. You were observing Cassiel’s vigil the night I met him, but often I have spoken of his charms to you. Though we have not declared each other consorts, we find ourselves quite devoted to each other. Recently, he made me quite the request of me and asked that I light a candle to Eisheth for us. It is on this subject I seek your counsel.

For one in my position, the choice to have a child brings a great many questions. My parents continued to work as Servants of Naamah after I was born, but neither was a Dowayne. Would I be able to continue in my duties if I became a mother? Would I want to?

I was born to the Night Court, my mother was born to it, and hers before her. And yet, I wonder, do I want a child of mine to be born to the same life? If the answer is no, does that mean I judge my parents for their choices? And if I say yes, what then does that say? Like me, your life was chosen for you as a child and I wonder if you would choose the same for your own offspring were you allowed that choice for them?

This weighs heavily on me, as I suppose it should. A decision this impactful should not be made easily. I eagerly await your thoughts on the subject, my oldest friend.

Aliksandria nó Cereus
Dowayne of Cereus House

Storyline: A Plea to Return Home

Petrea nó Cereus read the letter again. The words never changed but, every time she read them, the knot in her stomach grew.

Petrea,

The situation in the Judiciary grows dire. Your absence as Second of Cereus House is no longer feasible. I need you here. You must return home immediately.

-Aliks

So, the decision had been made for her.  Her Dowayne was demanding her come home. In some ways, it was a relief. She no longer had to decide whether or not to confess her unhappiness to Marco and return to the City of Elua of her own accord or continue to struggle for happiness here in Tiberium. It was done. But still, she had to tell him she would be leaving. Thus, the growing knot in her belly. The fear of his reaction. The worry of her future with him – or without him.

Marco walked into the bedroom where she sat on the bed, still clutching the letter. She turned towards him and, hands shaking, held out the parchment. He looked at her questioningly, but took the page and read it.

“So, you’re to leave then?” he said simply.

Petrea nodded, staring at her hands, unable to look at him.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the bed. “I’m honestly surprised it took this long. The letter must have been delayed,” he mused absently.

He continued gently. “Darling, we both heard the rumors in Aragonia and the same rumors still come from Terre D’Ange. Aliks’s letters continue to mention the trade guild fights and her fears for Cereus House.”

He tipped her chin up, looking into her eyes. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re unhappy.”

She started to respond, but her words died on her tongue.

“You may think you’re hiding it well, but I know you very well, my love. You’re not the vibrant woman I knew in Terre d’Ange. Your eyes don’t sparkle as they once did. You don’t belong here.”

He traced a line at the base of her neck where he knew the finial of her marque lay. He knew the lines by heart. “You cannot live a life where you have to hide this. I am not ashamed of you and I cannot keep you to a life of shame. And besides that, you, my dearest, would never be content being a Tiberian trader’s wife. You would never be content being a Tiberian anything. I should have known in Amílcar that this was a fool’s errand.”

“Amílcar?” Petrea was confused. “What does Amílcar have to do with anything?”

Marco burst out laughing. “You took a patron for the price of room and board! But I suspect you would have gone to him for free.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You are a Servant of Naamah and was a fool to think that would change if I took you away with me. It’s time to go, love.”

Petrea blinked back the tears that had been threatening to fall. When she spoke, her words came out barely above a whisper. “You’re right, but what of us? I truly do love you.”

“And I you. But that won’t stop simply because you no longer travel with me. Or live in Tiberium with me. You don’t have to be my wife for us to love each other. After all, I’ve been your patron for years.” Marco shrugged. “So I’ll continue to be your patron and your lover.”

“As simply as that?” She was stunned; her tears suddenly forgotten.

“Yes. As simply as that.”

“You would simply have me go back to the City of Elua and return to Naamah’s service, knowing that I will be taking other patrons? You nearly tore your hair out over the Marqués in Amílcar!”

“I know,” he chuckled. “And that’s when I began to doubt this arrangement, as I said. I spent many hours that night thinking about how our life would be if we wed, if you could be happy with this. I thought that, if you were happy in Tiberium, then it would mean a marriage could work. But you aren’t and it won’t. You need to go back to the City of Elua and be a proper Servant of Naamah.”

She gave a long sigh. “This is not how I expected this conversation to go.”

He frowned. “You expected I would be what? Angry? Devastated? Dejected?”

She shook her head. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t expect you to just kiss me on the cheek and send me away!”

He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I’m not sending you away. I’m agreeing that you should go home. You simply forgot to ask me whether or not I thought you should.”

Storyline: A Letter from Aragonia

My dearest Aliks,

We have been several weeks in Aragonia and, thank Elua, I have been able to arrange our accommodations this time. Upon arrival in Amílcar, our presence was requested by Ramiro Pascual de Soria y Borja, Marqués of Almazán, the son of the Duque de Soria who has traveled to Terre d’Ange through his family business dealings. Aragonia is not like Terre d’Ange in its ways of love and the Marqués was thrilled to find a servant of Naamah in the city. He requested the pleasure of an assignation at any price. I negotiated food and lodging for the duration of our stay in Amílcar, which he felt was quite the bargain. Perhaps it was, but the idea of not sleeping in yet another crowded, smelly inn is worth more to me than any amount of money I could fathom at the moment. I was surprised when Marco balked at the idea of my serving another patron! While we may be traveling together, I am still who and what I am and we are not wed. He has always known that I have other patrons and this is the first time he has expressed any jealousy. Aliks, I was truly shocked. He did eventually calm down and I spent a luxurious night with Ramiro.

Marco has not been as fortunate as I in his business ventures. We learned from the Marqués, whose family owns silver mines here, that the silver trade has slowed considerably due to a new and quite unexpected D’Angeline embargo on the metal. This has thrown the international silver market into disarray and caused a ripple effect into other markets. Traders and merchants are confused by the embargo, as there are no conflicts between Terre D’Ange and any other nations. Ramiro has, however, heard rumors of internal conflict between the guilds. Whatever the cause, there is fear this embargo could affect Terre D’Ange’s relations with its partner nations and have serious implications for future alliances.

While days are difficult for Marco, I find enjoyment in exploring the city, delighting in the vast differences between here and home, seeing the beautiful architecture, and visiting local shops. I do, however, feel I am quite the stranger, as I did in Alba, not speaking the language or knowing the local customs. Would that I were Phedrè nó Delaunay – able to blend in to any country and learn the language! I have been fortunate in that the Marques has provided me a servant girl from his household to serve as my guide, so that I am not completely lost. She has advised me to hide my marque, as the Aragonians would not look so kindly upon it. I was expecting different customs and attitudes, but I am not ashamed of who I am and hiding my marque felt uncomfortable. I suppose that if I am to conduct myself as Marco’s betrothed, I should expect to adapt. Ah the things we do for love, yes?

Always yours,

Petrea

Storyline: Roland’s Letter to Siovale

To the Ducal Seat of Siovale, Her Grace the Sovereign Duchesse de Perigeux, Niniane, greetings.

I am not the kind of man to dance around the topic of something that I want. We have been friends for long enough for you to know this about me. I will not waste my ink or your time with idle conversation or clever turns of phrase when there is something important to be done that you may assist me with. Even out in Siovale, I am sure you have heard the gossip of the City of Elua in regards to the effect the young Dahlia is having on the City. She is a capable woman but because she is by very nature as a Dahlia, not someone who is easily led, the City is twisting and turning in on itself trying to figure out if she’s a saint or a sinner as she holds the King’s heart in her hands. The other nobles are testing her to see how easily she can be manipulated for their own ends, the common peoples are torn between adoring her for rising above the circumstances of her birth or demonizing her for turning her back on the struggles of the lower classes. No matter what she does, she will be attacked over it.

That is not my concern. I trust my old friend Jocaste has trained her well and she will handle the challenges in her way the best way she can. No, what concerns me was the mutterings coming from the common folk, the guilds and the artisans. They are being whipped into – I cannot say it is a frenzy for they are not rioting in the streets – but they are being organized by a firebrand. He has convinced too many of the artisans and merchants that to protest the young Dahlia and the increasing power of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers over the Royal Court, that it is the duty of the common folk to remove some of that influence that things may be more balanced. As if anything is truly balanced or fair in politics.

This man, Halceaux, is of the Silversmith Guild, one of the guild leaders. And he has felt too comfortable criticizing the hierarchy of the City, the very D’Angeline way of life that is so dear to us. He demands too much from his betters while threatening too much in retaliation. I do not believe he speaks for all of the common people of the city, but he is certainly the loudest of their voices. I do not know what grievance he has against the young Dahlia, but my concern is the disrespect he shows to so sacred a D’Angeline institution.

Perhaps, as he is a silversmith, he should learn just how much of his business relies on the powerful permitting him access to his supplies. It would be a shame if one of the supply trains of Aragonian silver wasn’t permitted past your mountains, wouldn’t it? The sooner he understands his place in the weave and weft of the very fabric of our society, the sooner he will keep his private opinions to himself instead of criticizing the Night Court, the Service of Namaah, and the decisions of his King.

The decision is, of course, yours, Niniane. They are your mountains, after all.

By my hand and with my seal,
Roland de Chalasse, Sovereign Duc of L’Agnace

Storyline: A Letter Leaving Alba

Dearest Aliks,

I pray that my parcel has reached you safely.  The beautiful painting was done by a trader friend of Marco’s and, when I saw it, I knew immediately that it must hang in the halls of Cereus House.  It depicts a phenomenon called the Northern northern lights painting Lights, a most magical event only seen in the most northern areas of the world.  Please accept this gift with Marco’s and my affections.

After a month here in Alba, Marco’s business is finally complete and we will head for Aragonia and continued adventures.  My time with Marco is wonderful and I do not regret my decision to join him.  Alba is beautiful – green as emeralds, just as the poets write –  and, without Marco, I surely never would have visited on my own.  Thanks to Blessed Elua and Naamah that I have the chance to see this lovely isle before our next destination.  I do, however, dearly miss home and my friends and loved ones in the City and at Cereus House.  While Marco has done his best to secure the highest quality lodgings, I now realize just how spoiled I have been growing up in the Night Court.  He has even taken to teasingly calling me Princess when I struggle to hold my tongue over cold baths or lumpy beds of straws!  

Marco promises that once we reach Tiberium, we can settle into a much more leisurely pace and truly be together as we would like.  Perhaps once I have experienced this, I will know better if I do wish to leave the life of a Servant of Naamah and become Marco’s wife.  Only time will tell.

All my love,

Petrea

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Storyline: A letter from the Port of Morhban

My dearest Aliksandria,

Tomorrow we sail for Alba and, after days crammed in a small coach, I look forward to anything with more space and open air!  And, yes, I will concede to my discomfort at our lodgings.  While Marco has done everything in his power to secure rooms at the finest inns, I have had to turn many times to my training so as to school my face and not show my distress at the sights and smells of some of our accommodations.  But, while the rooms may be drafty and firewood scarce, every Servant of Naamah knows there is no shortage of ways to keep oneself warm at night with one’s lovers at her side.

The Duc de Morhban gave us lodging last night – such luxury after weeks of discomfort!  He dined with us and, as happens with nobles living in the provinces, he wanted all the gossip of the City.  It seems I cannot escape the nobility ever slavering for gossip of Odilia and Gustav, no matter how far I travel.  Perhaps things will be better in Alba?  He mentioned having heard somewhat of the Longest Night, asking endless questions of my thoughts on Odilia.  It leaves one to wonder what information he truly sought.   

This morning Marco showed me the ship that we are to board and, oh Aliks, it is marvelous.  The sails practically glowed in the morning sunlight that glanced off the water.  And the air smelled of salt!  I never considered the notion that salt truly has a smell, but it does, and the sea smells of it.  Of course it was terribly cold, not that one could tell by the sailors moving about the docks.  One would think it a fine spring day by the way they go about their business in shirtsleeves and breeches.  These are clearly (handsome) men of great fortitude, and Marco was highly entertained by my unabashed staring – and theirs in return.  

While I admit no lack of trepidation at setting off to sea in the morning, my heart sings with great excitement at the next step in this journey and the adventures that may lie ahead.  My next missive to you shall be sent from the green shores of Alba! 

All my love,

Petrea

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Storyline: Roland’s response to Rosanna

After receiving her letter, the L’Agnace Duc responds to his granddaughter.

To Rosanna Baphinol no՜ Valerian, My Favorite Granddaughter from Roland Sovereign Duc in L’Agnace Your Own Grandfather.

As always I am grateful to hear from my grandchildren, particularly from the one which does so more often than on the obligatory occasions. This is proved even more appreciative when receiving news such as this. Indeed, the additions and improvements to the hunting lodge have come to such a place where I can trust the steward to handle the final details and allow me to make a sojourn to the City of Elua. Even in the country we have heard tell of the theft of the sangoire cloak from the palace and the slight against the young King’s paramour. While some of my colleagues have expressed some distasteful opinions on whom the monarch should be spending his evening with, I find the pairing a logical choice – considering the nature and talent of Dahlia House and the new King’s lack of preparedness for his role. That and this adept has the honor of your friendship, so I was already curious what this Odilia is like. 

I find it hard to see what is so awful with a royal taking a member of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers as a lover, as though any of the offended parties have not spent their inheritances there already.

With much affection and curiosity to meet your Dahlia friend, expect me expediently. 

Storyline: Rosanna’s Letter to Roland

If hopes of gathering support for her friend Odilia after the dreadful display before the palace, Rosanna Baphinol nó Valerian, Dowayne of Valerian House, writes to her grandfather, Roland. Roland de Chalasse, Sovereign Duc of L’Agnace, is a man to both fear and respect. It helps that Rosanna is his favorite grandchild and his influence can be felt from field to fete.

To Roland Sovereign Duc in L’Agnace, Beloved Grandfather from your Devoted Granddaughter Rosanna Baphinol no՜ Valerian.

I hope this letter reaches you in a pleasant state. When last I saw you, there were great changes going on about your estate, improvements for your hunting grounds and the like. Have they progressed to a point where you might be spared a journey to the capitol? Perhaps by now, and knowing your ability to hear even the most miniscule rumors through walls, that some changes have been occurring at the palace as well. Not for me, but on behalf of a friend do I ask this of you. No other Lord amongst the nobility holds the respect and attention of the court as you do, this presence would be of great appreciation in helping my friend gain some ground with those who would look down upon the Servants of Naamah. Beloved Grandfather, surely as your own wife, Elua rest her soul, was a lay Servant I would hope that you see the need for allies in a situation such as this. Odilia no՜ Dahlia is a dear friend, she is more of an asset to the Dauphin than many could conceive possible, dare I say he is a better man with her influence. Even if the man responsible for the slander against her has been caught, the damage he has done needs help to heal. So please, will you come to the city and loan your good esteem to this painful situation? As I am ever loyal and loving unto you, I await your reply with great anticipation.     

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Storyline: Petrea’s answer to Marco

Petrea, Second of Cereus House, held out her sealed letter to the messenger bound for Tuberium.  She handed him a gold coin.  “You know where to deliver this?  You’re certain?  This is highly important that it reach its destination with all haste.”  She spoke insistently, with almost an air of desperation.

The courier smiled.  “My lady, I will put it in the gentleman’s hands myself.  I know him well and will see he gets it as soon as I am able.”  

He winked at her and grinned.  “I am certain that any correspondence from you is of the utmost importance.”

He took her letter and placed it in his saddlebag.  He patted the bag firmly.

“I shall protect this with my life!” he said with mock bravado, spurring his horse.

Petrea laughed and waved to the young man as he rode away.

My dearest Marco, 

I cannot, at present consent to becoming your wife, much though the thought intrigues me.  I offer you instead a counterproposal.  As a sort of trial engagement, I propose that I join you on your next trade voyage wherever that may take you.  I know not of your life, other than your stories, and should like to experience it for myself before making my decision.

I shall await your reply, and instructions as to the garments I should bring.

All my love,

Petrea

One week later an exhausted courier delivered a hastily scrawled letter to Cereus House.

My darling,

I will return within the week to collect you.  Pack for Alba.  I shall take care of everything else.

Yours,

Marco

Three days later, he arrived.  

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