10 Saun 716
My dear Lamb,
I've been thinking about it, and I am going to say that I agree with you. I am arrogant and proud, egocentric and somewhat patronizing. I am quick to speak, and even quicker to act. But I have been debating writing this letter since I got back to Sabaissant, and still am not sure where I am going to go with it. I've decided instead to just start writing, and perhaps I will fall into a rhythm.
Trepidation has never quite been something I've known. I'm known for being the more rambunctious of the Venora, unabashed and unadulterated in thought and action. And when I came to Warrick, I assure you, dear, I had no intent of changing that. However, there is a quality about you that makes me wish to second-guess myself. I became intensely aware of my wit and dryness, and worried at points that you found me... Unbearable. But as brash and crass as I am, I am just as honest and astute. And to that end, I have to confess something.
The kiss we shared, lying in the grass after our ride... That was my first. And since it has happened, I can think of no other things. The kiss sealed the most perfect trial of my life. Perhaps it was a rocky start, and one forced upon us by circumstance more than anything, but who says that circumstance and fate cannot go hand-in-hand? Alistair may have sent me to apologize for my cousin's shortcomings, but that was the least important part of my visit. In the stead of that, I found that I enjoyed spending my time more with you than I have anyone else in my life. As precocious and forward as I was, you still found me enjoyable. I cannot tell you how excited that makes me.
Alistair says that it is likely going to be dangerous to travel for the foreseeable future, but I would love for you to come to Sabaissant, perhaps to dine with me and see a concert? There are lovely musicians here around this time of the year, and I imagine that their catalogs will swell with the upcoming strife. You know musicians. We're a dastardly bunch who capitalize on the misfortunes of others in order to swell our own pockets. I jest, of course. Please, my dear, write back as soon as you can with a reply, so that I may start planning quite the evening.
In adoration always,
Theodore.
My dear Lamb,
I've been thinking about it, and I am going to say that I agree with you. I am arrogant and proud, egocentric and somewhat patronizing. I am quick to speak, and even quicker to act. But I have been debating writing this letter since I got back to Sabaissant, and still am not sure where I am going to go with it. I've decided instead to just start writing, and perhaps I will fall into a rhythm.
Trepidation has never quite been something I've known. I'm known for being the more rambunctious of the Venora, unabashed and unadulterated in thought and action. And when I came to Warrick, I assure you, dear, I had no intent of changing that. However, there is a quality about you that makes me wish to second-guess myself. I became intensely aware of my wit and dryness, and worried at points that you found me... Unbearable. But as brash and crass as I am, I am just as honest and astute. And to that end, I have to confess something.
The kiss we shared, lying in the grass after our ride... That was my first. And since it has happened, I can think of no other things. The kiss sealed the most perfect trial of my life. Perhaps it was a rocky start, and one forced upon us by circumstance more than anything, but who says that circumstance and fate cannot go hand-in-hand? Alistair may have sent me to apologize for my cousin's shortcomings, but that was the least important part of my visit. In the stead of that, I found that I enjoyed spending my time more with you than I have anyone else in my life. As precocious and forward as I was, you still found me enjoyable. I cannot tell you how excited that makes me.
Alistair says that it is likely going to be dangerous to travel for the foreseeable future, but I would love for you to come to Sabaissant, perhaps to dine with me and see a concert? There are lovely musicians here around this time of the year, and I imagine that their catalogs will swell with the upcoming strife. You know musicians. We're a dastardly bunch who capitalize on the misfortunes of others in order to swell our own pockets. I jest, of course. Please, my dear, write back as soon as you can with a reply, so that I may start planning quite the evening.
In adoration always,
Theodore.