Letter from a swan maiden.
You didn't burn it. You didn't even lock it away. It's been in a cardboard box in my closet all this time.
I know from the note that you thought you were preserving my freedom. Maybe it works that way with others of my kind; I don't know. For me, my feather cloak isn't freedom, it's a leash that pulls me back. Or maybe it's an addiction, or a curse.
You're the best husband I've ever had. Take care of the childr
I know from the note that you thought you were preserving my freedom. Maybe it works that way with others of my kind; I don't know. For me, my feather cloak isn't freedom, it's a leash that pulls me back. Or maybe it's an addiction, or a curse.
You're the best husband I've ever had. Take care of the childr