Words

Elsapatience of the Great House

I dreamt of Mother again last night. I haven't dreamt of her in nearly five years. When I awoke this morning, I was terrified. Mother's face had become so cloudy... so vague. Was I forgetting her? I had always had such a sharp memory.

I wrote Mother a letter. It isn't a letter really. I put my thoughts down on paper, I wrote down my memories. It is to help me remember her, but also an exercise to resharpen my memory. I can't forget. I won't. Memories of Mother before she died are the only beautiful things left for happy dreams. I had enough haunting nightmares after my mother died to last the rest of my life.
I took Mother's letter to my garden at dusk. I had to sneak because I knew I might be more inclined to be missed. I sat with my back to the swing and closed my eyes. Slowly, striving to remember every tiny detail of her face, of her eyes and her smile, I ripped the parchment into pieces and let the wind take each word from my open hands. I prayed the wind would take them up to her and that she might bless my dreams.

Albir Elderberry of Farwood

Father told me late last night after dinner with the Family that General Lauphinstok is coming up to the Great House. Apparently this is Uncle's way of instructing me further on matters of war, in preparation for... er, kingship. Oh boundless joy.
Father also mentioned, in passing, that the General's daughter Ariella will be accompanying him. I swear, the people in this House have absolutely no sense of subtlety. For heaven's sake. I suppose she has freckles and squints, too. Joy of joys.