{ narrative } have you come here for forgiveness have you come to raise the dead
Phillipa,
Knowing that we have only spoken perhaps a handful of times, I hope that you don't find this missive too presumptuous. It has been some time since the last time I saw you, but I must confess the same is true of many of my friends outside of the Deepmoor; my duties here have commanded the whole of my attention. It is, in truth, among the reasons I feel so compelled to correspond. I can hardly want for company here - or indeed solitude, if I choose it - but you must know yourself the sometime necessity of another woman's reason, conversations that require a gentler hand.
Admittedly I have no particular need for anything very specific, but my point remains! Perhaps what it is I want is to not be th likeminded company, outside of all these warriors. I know it's such a popular cliché that a woman's maid is her closest confidante - would that it could be comfortably true! Of course I understand the romanticism at work, but what a dreadful position to put a girl in. Do forgive me my meandering thoughts; it has simply been that sort of a month. It has been suggested that I ought to delegate more often, and I suppose there is truth in it - I will when I am satisfied. I suspect my brother is so much more comfortable with this new situation than I am yet, but such are men. Or, at least, such are many of those that I've known.
I suppose that - having seen in you much worthy of admiration - I am simply hoping to forge a better friendship. Now that I am turning my thoughts to travel, again, I would be glad to see you properly, but I do hope in the meanwhile that you might consider writing me back.
Thoughtfully,
