1865-11-04: Letter to Henric
Letter to Henric
Summary: After her visit to the Cassomir Manse, Julieta writes a letter.
Date: Novembre 4th, 1865
Related: Rejection
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Julieta  Henric  

The better half of the night Julieta had spent upstairs in her room at the Firebrand Inn at the table, more or less staring at an empty piece of parchment before her, whenever her face was not buried in her hands for a moment of silent sobbing. There was a redness about her eyes and some moisture on her cheeks which she would wipe away with her handkerchief now and then. It could only be a half-hearted attempt to remove the traces of her current emotionally turbulent state from her face.

The ink, quill and parchment she had requested from the innkeep upon her return from the Cassomir Manse, suspecting she would need them during the night, were laid out before her on the table. As well as a flagon of wine, from which less than a half was still left.

Hazelbrown eyes drift to the black box with the present Henric had given her, and which she had only accepted temporarily. After he had insisted. A pawn of whatever it was they had left. Three months. Would she see him again - ever? Given that horrible stoic expression in his eyes, probably not.

Even moreso a letter was required, if she wanted to get even with him. And so the Pearl starts to write. One of the areas she had most indulged in during her studies at the Academy was the development of a cultivated even handwriting, incorporating elegant curves and showing off a certain confidence as well as beauty. A faint smile curls her lips when she falls back into the routine, and thus her mind enters a calmer state which is required when composing a letter - however emotionally stirring its contents may be.


Dearest Henry,

I am sorry we had to part like this, and as I would not wish to leave Firen without even the attempt to explain to you the reasons for my decision more throroughly than you allowed me to, I am penning you this letter in the hope you read it in a less angered state.

First of all, I'd lke to stress I've had the choice of two ways to go about this. The way of cunning and deception would have been more agreeable to you, I am sure. I could have said that I agree, and that I would become your consort, well knowing it would certainly not come to pass. Because I trust you have not yet asked permission from your brother the Viscount, and would he give it so readily? I really doubt it, given you are his brother - a valuable pawn in the political game of marriages and bonds. Keeping a consort would hamper any attempt to marry you off. Secondly, maybe other members of your family might oppose such a step as well. Have you ever inquired about their opinion on such a possibility?

So as you see, I had a choice, and I chose honesty, because I owe it to you. Mayhaps because on our first encounter I was not completely honest with you, which I for once, need to clarify, even if this clarification may come a little late. I lied to you about Katrina sending me. She was absent on that day, that much is true. I opened your letter by accident. I figured you wouldn't receive me, so I lied. I came to you with the intention to win you over, to snatch you from her. It was a base thing really, and not one I am overly proud of. Even though it marked the beginning of our acquaintance.

How could I suspect I'd grow that fond of you? It was not my intention.

In regards to my reasons for rejecting you, I fear the principle of fidelity has not been part of my education. But true, such could be learned certainly and I would gladly do so, if the other person involved would agree to the same term. I am no fool, Henry. I have observed enough of your character to suspect you are quite prone to temptations – you do obviously enjoy the company of courtesans. I noticed the glance you gave the girl leading you to me at l’Académie. I know from that night in Kentaire you were indulging in the moment, you wanted the company of both Bes and me, and that is what you got. You yourself said I would have to 'chain you down'. Can such a character really be happy with limiting himself? To one woman, a woman who will have to rethink her own personality and reinvent herself as a true companion to him – forcing her to abandon some of her thoroughly trained character traits such as the delightful game of teasing? The challenge of wit? A number of other talents you have encountered she would keep of course, still, would the spark of passion remain?

When long weeks of your absence would have me wither and pine for your return, left on my own, without even my friends from the Academy keeping me company. It would be always you who would eventually come back, and I have to admit one part of me yearns for receiving you in this manse with open arms, to give you the warm welcome a consort would offer. The other part of me is aware of other possible diversions you might have had while being away, and whereas such a thing would not bother me at present in my current position, it certainly would if I were left on my own, day in day out. My single purpose to please you would make me feel useless when you were not around.

Contrary to a courtesan a consort is supposed to have a heart. And such a heart would be broken. It is a prospect that scares me. In that you may call me a coward.

The Queen of Diamonds

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