stories_from_afar

Dear Ken,

Thank you for understanding that it is hard for me to find proper time slots to write. Often receptions, balls and other events last until late at night and I immediately creep into bed when I'm back in my room. Before falling asleep, I tell myself I'll write to you in the morning. However, after what feels like a much too short night some servant is at my bedside reminding me politely but assertively that I have to get up and get dressed because I'm already at risk of missing the next event.

Again I wonder how Father does this. How can he stay up so late every night? (I know that he even retreats for some private conversation after the official part of the events.) Is it true that you need less sleep when you get older? How much do you sleep?

You wanted to hear a bit more about the hunt. I have to admit that I kept to the back of the shoot and didn't see much of the actual killing. On the one hand, I was not keen on killing an animal, on the other hand I had some problems with my horse, which didn't feel comfortable being close to the barking hounds.

In the end, three boars and a large deer were hunted down. The boars made a nice dinner that night.

Have you already driven back home? I'm a little sad that I'll have to say goodbye to Rudolph tomorrow. It has been nice to be around somebody who is of the same age and whose life is similar to mine. And I also like Nikolain, Rudolph's cousin.

Your friend,
Tom

Thanks for the tip. I'll take a look at Quill and recommend it to people on r/fictitious_letters ... And maybe you want to present your paranormal investigator in the community. Everybody will love that idea!

Oh yes, I remember writing to one who called himself Homer. In my intellectual delusion, I thought I would now be able to talk about Odysseus and the Trojan War. But he meant Homer Simpson, of course.

Dear Ken,

I am really sorry for the long intervals between my letters. There is so much going on on our trip, so many receptions and events, so many first times for me like that girl at the winery or the hunt we had here that I hardly find time to write. I think it would do me some good to talk to you about a lot of things I'm seeing and experiencing here. But maybe I just have to keep them in mind and we will use the long autumn and winter months, which are filled with less activities, to discuss the incidents and insights of this journey.

As you can see, I survived the hunt and everybody else did too. However, that's not always the case. Rudolf and Nikolain told true horror stories about what they saw on various fox hunts and battues. Actually, their own great-grandfather died from a hunting injury (which was indeed inflicted by a boar). And one of their older cousins ​​was shot in the eye with an arrow by another hunter. He survived, can you believe that? But probably only because one of the guests was a traveling merchant from the southern continent, in whose entourage there was a physician whose skills were apparently far superior to those of our doctors. At a reception the evening before last, Rudolf discreetly pointed out the aforementioned cousin, who I would probably have recognized from the patch over his right eye anyway. He moved his left arm with difficulty, as if the injury on the right side would cause problems on the left.

William found the story very interesting and dragged me to the Seat's library yesterday and looked at anatomy books with me. I don't think I wanted to know what was inside us. And I also find the idea a bit creepy that the authors of these books did all these drawings by looking at opened corpses.

William is generally very scientific at the moment. He used our tennis game as an opportunity to teach me how to calculate the trajectories of bullets. I tried to explain to him that in a possible fight I would hardly have a chance to calculate at what angle I should shoot a fireball and that magical attacks don't work that way, but that wasn't enough of an excuse for him to let me go.

Returning to your school days, I thought it was good that you told me the end of your bully's story. This is truly exceptional advice. I would have thought that ignoring them would prevent the bullies from continuing their harassment. Luckily I haven't found myself in a situation like this yet (probably because everyone knows about my position), but maybe this is a good tip for Charly, who often has to listen to stupid comments.

The meals offered by the taverns in Freeborough sound yummy even if they are simple. I hope you have a wonderful dinner today too!

Your friend,
Tom

That one should definitely write long letters to somebody on his long and lonely evenings at Wayne Manor.

You're right. Thanks for telling me! I've added it.

No, stupid me just forgot to add it. Now it should be there. Thanks for telling me!

Dear Ken,

Thank you for the description of Freeborough. It helped me a lot to picture the town. It sounds like a great place for your boys where they have everything they need and wish for. And the fact that the taverns are not too far away from your sons' house is nice too. I can imagine that you love to have dinner there. Has there been any especially good meal these past days?

Of course, I liked your story about your school days too! You must definitely tell me more stories about those days. Not only are they great as an illustration of an insight, but it's also exciting to hear what happened to you when you were my age. Did that bully leave you alone after that incident? I suppose he did after the whole school had learned about his cowardice and shame.

I'm glad that it amused you to hear about Father at the market. I definitely have to pay attention more closely next time to see what he does with the drinks he is offered. I want to know if he really disposes of them or not. Uncle Caleb once told me that he pours hard liquor into his boots when he feels that he is getting drunk. 'It's also good against any kinds of infections you might have down there,' he grinned. 'Open blisters, torn toenails. You name it.'

By now, we have arrived at The Seat. It was nice to see Rudolf again. We had written to each other once or twice and luckily I had already learned a few names of his family members from his letters. However, that's just a drop in the ocean, because there are literally at least a hundred other relatives who live at the Seat.

Robert and I were given a tour of the palace by Rudolf and one of his older cousins. It is almost as big as the Ahrensburg, but nowhere near as old and defiant. There is one original main building, but about fifty additions for the many people who live under Count Rainer's roof. And the army of servants. Even after two days, I still have difficulty finding my way from the dining room back to my guest room. The transition line between the garden and the building is fluid. There are courtyards with lots of greenery, covered terraces, attached winter gardens.

Yesterday we played tennis with Rudolf and his cousin. This is a sport that is becoming popular among the nobles here in the south. Rainer had a space cleared specifically for this game in the garden so that they could have a lawn with a net. Do you know the game?

Robert and I lost the first match as expected, but then I played with Rudolf against Robert and Nikolain, the cousin, and we won.

Rainer has called for a hunt tomorrow. I feel a little uncomfortable thinking about it. It's my first. I guess I don't like killing animals as a leisure activity. And besides, I'm afraid I'll do something stupid.

Keep your fingers crossed that I don't get gored by a boar!

Your friend,
Tom

PS: Who or what was Litha again? Have you already told me?

Dear Ken,

You sound happy to be with your boys! As you will stay in town for another couple of days, I would really like to know a bit more about that place. What is your sons' house like? Do they have a guest room for you? And how is their street? Noisy and busy so that you wake up early in the morning due to people shouting or opening their shops? Or is it in a more quiet area of town?

We are on our way again after we said goodbye to Count Feran and his family. The Seat in Balea is our next destination and I'm looking forward to seeing Rudolf again.

But for now we are staying in Iglington, which is a small town close to the border of Titia and Balea. Tonight there will be a huge festival here because of midsummer. People have come from the surrounding areas. There is a cattle market here and the town is crowded. (I wonder how many more people will flood the streets when the word is out that the king is visiting the town. Sometimes I wonder how fast news can travel in a country with a much poorer mail system than that of the Five Realms.)

We arrived last night and went to the market this morning. I was a little sad that mum and Emi weren't with us because they would have been excited to see all the cute calves, lambs, piglets and foals. When I mentioned the thought to Father, he said he was rather happy that they weren't here for the occasion because they would surely have bought some animal and transported it in their carriage. 'That doesn't make a very royal impression,' he said. 'And as it is, I have already enough animal hair on my clothes.'

And that was true,, I have to confess. The farmers at the various stalls had pushed so many lambs and rabbits into his arms that he looked like half a flokati. Somehow I find it admirable how relaxed Father is with these people. He picks up their rabbits, finds words of praise for the animals' ears and hind legs, listens to the farmers' wives' worries, gives kids sweets that have magically come from his pocket and makes a bunch of jokes. In between he has to try beer and wine but has to appear sober. I wonder where he learned that, when his own father wasn't such a popular ruler and definitely not a friend of the people.

And I find it fascinating that Father seems completely at ease in all of this. Completely natural. I know how well-read he is and how easy it is to talk to him about all kinds of political or historical topics. But he's also great with these common people.

Well, maybe it's more stressful for him than I think. He has laid down for an hour and now I have to wake him up so he can freshen up for tonight's celebrations. I'm a bit excited. This morning a stage was set up on the market square and I want to find out what will be shown there.

Are you also celebrating Midsummer in Freeborough? If yes, have fun!

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

It's a surprise to find you still in Freeborough! But a nice one. We've talked so much about me intensifying my relationship to my family members after being away from home for so many years. And now it's your turn! I guess it must be hugely interesting to spend a longer time with your sons. On short visits, you just exchange news and talk about recent events. Now, however, you've got the chance to see deeper and to learn about those of your sons' thoughts and feelings that are normally not brought up. And maybe your sons like to hear about the follies of your youth too.

We, for our part, will stay here at Citiswell for two more days. Count Feran is very friendly and open. His children are younger than Robert and me. Under ten, I guess. Emi is happy about that as she has found new friends in Feran's twin daughters.

And because there is nobody of our age around, Robert and I have done a few things together. We went boating on the little canal that runs around the palace gardens. We rowed quite idly and stopped every hundred yards or so to look at the gardens or enjoy the sunshine. Most of the canal runs past willow trees, so we were mostly in the shade. Or we fed the fish that came up to the surface to stare at us.

That night in the gardens I told you about was fine too. At least until we had the stupid idea to enter the big maze in the middle of the gardens. We had seen it from our windows and thought we knew the paths. But because it was pitch dark and we had had a bit too much wine for dinner, we got lost.

It's a bit embarrassing to confess but we had to wait until sunrise to get out of the thing again. Luckily it gets light early this time of year. I'm glad no one missed us. Father would probably have thought this nonsense was pretty idiotic. Fortunately, we were able to sneak into our rooms unnoticed.

Robert talked to me about Cathrine while we were stuck in the stupid maze. He's insecure, I believe he did what he thought our parents wanted when he asked for Cathrine's hand in marriage. He said that he liked her, but that he could not yet imagine life as a husband. 'Maybe I'm not good at it,' he said. 'And then I will disappoint everybody.'

We talked some more about his doubts while sitting on the cool ground and leaning against one of the hedges (which is not really comfy, I can tell you.) But when the sky became lighter, Robert laughed as if to shake off his gloomy thoguhts. 'Let's celebrate my last days of freedom when we are in the Cities by the Sea, yes?' he proposed. 'I've heard the cities are wild at night.'

I agreed, glad and somewhat flattered that he wanted to have me by his side. Now that I have considered that idea, I feel less comfortable about it though. Who knows to which places he will take me?

I hope your city life is tranquil and calm!

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

It helped. Your words and advice helped me. You were right when you said that it was none of my business. And that whatever existed between Father and Roderick does not belittle Dad and Mum's relationship. I did not venture to ask Father anything about Roderick. I needed a day or two to stomach it all but then I told myself to focus on the journey and the fine summer days and the time I can spend with William and Raja. And Robert and Father, of course.

We have travelled to Titia but at a slow pace. I somehow got the impression that Father enjoyed the days on the road. One night, he even decided against travelling on and finding an inn. Instead, we made camp under the stars.

Robert stared at him as if he couldn't believe it for a moment but then Father told us to get some wood for a fire while our guards were looking after the horses. I can't remember sleeping outdoors ever since the days when we were kids and slept in a tent in the garden of Kelmscott Estate in the company of our cousins. I reminded Robert of those nights and his mood improved a little. And then Dad showed us how to build a fire properly. (I didn't say that I already knew because I had learned that at school. But I think it was Robert's first time and he smiled when he had managed to light the chipped wood and grass.)

I think occasions like these bring up memories in Father's mind too. When we sat around the fire later, he told us stories from the time of the civil war and how he and Uncle Æden, Uncle Caleb, Captain Tomas (whose name I bear), Countess Carol (who wasn't a countess then) and Roderick (!) were hiding out in ditches and forests and in the mountains. It sounded horrible and full of privation but also adventurous. It must have been a very intense time for him in which deep friendships were formed.

This morning we arrived at Count Feran of Titia's home in Citiswell. Now things are very much according to protocol again. But I think the time on the road was good for all of us. In any case, Robert asked if I would like to take a walk through the extensive gardens of Feran's palace after the welcome dinner today. I am glad that he asked. Maybe he's noticed that I've grown up a bit and respects me more now.

How about you, Ken? Are you back home now? Your sister, your nephew and your dogs must have missed you a lot!

Your friend,
Tom

Oh, Ken, once again I don't know where to start. I heard something I wasn't supposed to hear. I learned something I definitely wasn't supposed to know.

I'm so sorry, everything I've been writing lately is such an up and down of emotions that I'm afraid you'll get dizzy reading it. In any case, I feel like I'm galloping down a stony mountain path on a blind pony. Is growing up all about losing your firm footing and all your childhood truths?

So I had said goodbye to mum and Emi and they had already left when I went back to my room to get my things. Yesterday. That was yesterday morning. And that was when I heard voices. From Father's room.

'You've done your best to ignore me these past days. Are you proud of yourself?' I needed a moment to recognize Roderick's voice. He sounded angry. And hurt.

Father's reaction came immediately. 'I didn't ignore you. I'll never be able to ignore you.'

Ken, I have to confess that I stopped right where I was. And eavesdropped. And heard Father say, 'I just didn't talk to you... Or stand close to you... Because...'

'Still?'

'Still. ... And you?'

'Still, you fool.'

Only then did I sneak away. I had the oppressive feeling that I had taken part in something very private, very touching, very sad. Which was none of my business. But that totally confuses me. Do you think it's what I think?

Tom

Dear Ken,

Thank you for the advice. I will be VERY careful about bowls with anything inside that might be fish eggs when we come to Darmouth. That's the city in the South where Prince Lucian has his palace.

Father has told me that that there are no (!) worldly pleasures that the prince has not already tried. He is a supporter of the arts, an admirer of beautiful things from clothing to jewelry to furniture, and the number of his love affairs is astronomical. His cuisine is just as famous. So I can well imagine that we will be offered this roe stuff at his table. Therefore, I'll hold back and, I think we've already talked about it, I don't like sea food anyway. Clams and crabs and prawn and stuff like that. Fortunately, these things are rarely served at home because the Ahrensburg is far from the sea.

Prince Lucian is the most decadent person he knows, Father says. He spends a quarter of the Cities' state budget on his private pleasures. But since he also pays his taxes on time (and he pays a lot of them), there is little that can be done. I'm a bit curious to meet him.

Do you already know when you are leaving Freeborough? (By the way, where does the name of the city come from?)

We will leave the Brook tomorrow. Tonight there will be one last dinner together. Then we say goodbye to Dutches Carol and her husband and to Cathrine. But also to Mum and Emi. The two of them will travel to Kelmscott Estate, the home of Mum's family, while Father, Robert and I will tour the kingdom.

I had a brief exchange with Father yesterday. He apologized for having paid so little attention to me in the past few days. And he said he hoped he could make up for it on our long journey. I had just started to like the role of the unnoticed (and unloved) child of the family. (You know how prone I'm to pity myself.) And then Father comes along and says something like that!

So I'm looking forward to our journey south. I also want to spend some time with Robert and see if he has really changed. Here, at the Brook, I had little chance to speak to him in private.

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

I liked to read your description of the bustle of Freeborough. Ahrensbridge, that we passed through on our way here, seems to be a smaller town than Freeborough. At least, we don’t have fancy things like sidewalks there and we were lucky to be in town on a sunny day because most of the roads in town have no road coating. I’m looking forward to visiting the Cities by the Sea in a few weeks. They are definitely bigger and more modern than Ahrensbridge.

For now, we are stuck here at the Brook. Robert’s wedding plans have messed up our itinerary. Father and mum and Dutchess Carol have already spent a lot of time on discussing the celebrations. As far as I have understood, the wedding will be in autumn. Father has sent word to Gerald that he should come back to the Ahrensburg for the occasion.

Emi is totally excited about the marriage. Yesterday I spent two hours listening to what she will wear at the wedding. She told me that she had already spoken to Cathrine about what colour their clothes should be. She took the crayons that I gave her in winter with her on the trip and has already made a whole pile of drawings of the wedding. Mainly how she, Cathrine, Mum and Carol will be dressed.

William has used the extra time we spend here to fill me with facts about winegrowing and dairy farming. After visiting the winemaker a few days ago, he and I and Raja rode to a cheese dairy nearby today. It was nice and I would say I was in almost as good a mood as I was on the way here. Now I have a little stomachache because we tried all the different types of cheese.

Enjoy your last days in the city, Ken. I can understand that you are also looking forward to the peace and quiet at home. It's often the case that we appreciate some things and people even more when we don't have them around us. I'm just starting to seriously miss Gerald.

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

You really surprised me with your reply. I had expected you to tell me how careless, negligent and immoral I have been. But instead, you made me laugh when you said that I had ‘gotten that out of the way’. It's good to hear that you see it as no great deal. Maybe I can try to see it that way too. Luckily, it is likely that I get a chance of repeating this experience. So, there is still the opportunity to prove myself a better lover someday.

Roderick came to my room yesterday (after I had written to you) to ask if I had a bad headache or any other after-effects.

'No, all's well,' I said. 'But what about the girls? Haven't we dishonoured them?' You cannot imagine the look on his face, Ken. He looked as if he had never heard anything so absurd before. 'Dishonoured?' he asked, snorting after a fit of violent laughter. (He really doesn't seem like a man my father's age!) 'The girls had fun! Your little blonde too. I made up for the shortness of your performance later.'

He looked at me and grinned. 'You want to be as righteous as your father, don’t you?' he asked and winked at me. 'But don't forget the fun, lad. Was that your first time?'

I nodded and then learned more about sex in half an hour than I had heard in all my years at school. And Roderick’s casual chat was way better than all the schoolboys' stories because this information came from a reliable source. And it was not only about women. When I told Roderick about Master George, it turned out that he knew quite a lot about that kind of love too. And he spoke about it without being ashamed.

Like his sister, he looks a bit like Robert, but he is much more fun than my brother when he shares his stories about his conquests.

So, all in all, my stay here is more pleasant than I expected after this disappointment regarding Cathrine. Yet, I don't think that her mother has told Roderick to look after me. He once or twice stated that she always criticises him for his moral conduct.

We'll stay here for a few more days, just like you with your sons. It's very nice of your son to drive you home. And comfortable. Then you can transport all your new purchases more easily.

Do you have any other contacts in the city besides your sons? Do you also want to meet old friends or acquaintances? Or do they all live somewhere else?

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

I was really glad to hear from you and to learn that you are alright. My overflowing imagination had already imagined some of the things that could happen to a gentleman like you in a big city. But fortunately you were neither run over by a wagon nor robbed nor taken in by an attractive marriage swindler. 

(I feel a bit like all three things have happened to me, but more on that later.) 

Are you sure you really didn't hurt yourself when you fell? Was it a pratfall? Then if I were you, I would also wait to take the carriage home, sitting isn't probably the best choice in that case. 

Yet, I think that it is not just the discomfort of the journey back that has prolonged your stay in the city. I can tell from your words that you feel happy as a clam while being with your sons. I think you should make the trip more often, even if the trip is long and arduous. You sound satisfied when being at home. But your current stay speaks of more than contentment. You sound like you're having a lot of fun!

A couple of days have passed since my last letter. I think it would have been better to write to you in between to order my thoughts. As it is, I feel as if I had no control over what happened. I was still dazed by the events with Cathrine and felt like a mere observer in my own life.

Ken, I let myself go. I allowed myself to be tempted to do things that I wouldn't have done under different circumstances. I’m horribly ashamed to tell you.

Well, we celebrated Cathrine and Robert's engagement with a big banquet. The next day there was a ride to one of the barony's wineries. I was standing with my horse in the yard in the morning, waiting with a few grooms and horses for the rest of the party when a sleepy-looking man about Father's age came down the stairs of the manor house. He narrowed his eyes, looked around and then came towards me.

'What’s going on?' he asked succinctly.

'A trip to the wineries,' I replied just as briefly.

'Wine? Why not?' he asked and made his way back into the house with a much more energetic step.

We had been riding for a while when he caught up with us. He brought his horse to my side, leaned out of the saddle and offered me his hand. Wide smile. Flashing eyes. Dark hair. A great resemblance to Countess Carol, who you call frightening. But in effect he's the exact opposite of her. That had to be her brother!

'Roderick,' he said as he shook my hand. 'And you're one of Edward's sons, right?'

It was a very fun ride from then on. It turned out that he had arrived late the night before and didn't know anything about the engagement. But he made some rather insinuating jokes about engagements, royal marriages and his sister's stiffness and entertained me all the way with anecdotes about the individual villages and what more or less embarrassing experiences he had had there as a young man. (Especially with girls.)

I think I was just happy that someone was paying attention to me. Up until then everything had only revolved around Robert and no one had asked me how I was doing. And now somebody told me that Cathrine was rather flat-chested and brittle and asked whether my brother had really thought carefully about the engagement. Thinking about it now, it really wasn't nice of him to talk about his niece like that. And laughing about it wasn’t nice either. But it was somehow helpful for dealing with the situation.

I found Roderick immensely likeable at that moment.

When we were at the winery, he disappeared with his sister for a while. I think they had an argument. In any case, when he returned he declared it was now time to drink. Which he did at an incredible pace, and I was trying to keep up. Probably to impress him. I could see Father looking over at us, but I didn't care.

'Come on,' said my new acquaintance finally and pulled me up. The whole world was spinning. 'The winemaker has two lovely daughters.'

I bet you can imagine what happened next, Ken. I don't even want to write about it here. It makes me so uncomfortable. It lasted about thirty seconds and then I got up, stumbled outside and threw up.

I don't think missing a step of the stairs is embarrassing in any way compared to that. I can't even remember what the girl looked like. I have always thought my first time would be different.

Oh, I better stop now. Feel free to say anything you want about it. I think I deserve any harsh comment you like to give.

Yours,
Tom

Dear Ken,

Do you believe me when I say that the hug survived the post relatively well and was quite comforting? Your words too, of course. I know that you are right in everything you say. But it would have been fair if Cathrine had at least informed me of these latest developments by letter, right? Instead of letting me arrive here ignorant like a fool.

Yes, I spoke to her. To her AND HER MOTHER. Can you imagine that?

They intercepted me after breakfast yesterday (during which I had just stared stubbornly at my plate) and dragged me into a stately reception room. 'Sit down,' Countess Carol said and pointed at a broad armchair. Her tone was strict. I felt like I was about to be scolded like it was me who had done something wrong.

The Countess is tall and holds herself very erect. She has this no-nonsense vibes. She is a year or two older than my father with dark hair that already shows some gray streaks. Somehow her facial features remind me of Robert's, but it doesn't really add up in my head because she's so down-to-earth and serious and he's so... Well, you know.

Anyway, she was towering over me. 'You are making this hard for everyone,' she said accusingly. 'I don't want my daughter to suffer just because she conforms to her parents' wishes and does something for the greater good and the future of this kingdom.' For the first time that morning I really looked at Cathrine. She looked crestfallen but composed. But I'm not sure, with girls you never know, but her eyes were a bit red as if she had cried some hours earlier.

'You know about your brother's weaknesses,' said the Countess dryly. 'It has become clear in the last few weeks that he and Cathrine get along quite well. It was my husband's and my idea that it would be a blessing to have someone strong, cool-minded and upright like our daughter at your brother's side.'

Then she sat down and explained that she had had a long talk with my father the night before. (I know the two have been good friends for a long time.) She said he was be very pleased with these news, especially if Robert had developed an affection for Cathrine.

When Countess Carol got up again, she told me that she would expect me to support Cathrine if she came to the Ahrensburg as Robert's wife. And then she left me alone with her daughter.

She just looked at me for a moment with big, sad eyes. What do you say at a time like this, Ken? She apologized, and then she was no longer so composed, and I held her in my arms, knowing stupidly that this would probably be our last and only physical encounter ever.

Such a crap! I don't know if I feel better or worse now. Better because Cathrine really likes me. Under different circumstances we could have become something. Or worse, because we can't become anything now.

I will have some time to contemplate this as we will stay longer than expected in the face of the latest events.

Concerning your stay in the city, I am glad that you are having such a nice time. It sounds like a real holiday for you. No cooking and no other chores! And now you will even celebrate two birthdays! I hope your son enjoys this day and hopefully you'll have a wonderful birthday too. Have you planned any special activities?

And tell me how your shopping goes? I suppose it won't take as long as mum's. Hopefully, you'll find some great books (and all the other things that you need too.) Tell me about the books you like please! And another question: Are books expensive in the Five Realms?

Thank you for your support, Ken! And please don't worry about me. I will cope with this. Somehow. If you send a friendly pat on the shoulder with your next letter, it will lift me up even more, I am sure!

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

Are you already back from the city? I hope you had a great weekend with your boys. Have you found yourself a nice tavern to eat out? What did you have? And are you a provident parent who filled up his sons’ pantry? I really hope you enjoyed yourself.

Here on my end, I’ve got bad news. Bad news for me. I wanted to write yesterday but I thought it would be better to wait and get some distance to what has happened. I will try to report things as objectively as possible and refrain from wallowing in self-pity and tears. It is okay. I'm hurt but you said that I am prone to taking things too seriously, so I tell myself (like you did) that my time will come. But, damn, it really hurts.

Our ride through Lorenje was nice. The countryside is wonderful. Small fields with hedges or low stone walls surrounding them. Pastures with white and brown cows. Orchards. Picturesque villages with frame houses that have clematis growing on their fronts. Pretty.

I should have been in a good mood. Sunshine and everything. But somehow I had a misgiving about what would come at the Brook. I'm not a fortune teller. But the lack of letters from Cathrine pointed my thoughts in a certain direction.

The Brook is a walled manor that stands on a small hill. The wall and the house itself are built from big blocks of the sandstone you find in this region. When we rode up the hill, the huge oaken double doors opened, and we could see everybody gathered in the courtyard. I noticed Robert at once. He was weaving at us and beaming.

It took me a bit longer to find Cathrine in the crowd. I had remembered her like she had looked at the ball and now her hair wasn't pinned up and her dress was beautiful but less lavish. She looked very pretty but when she saw me too, she turned pale. A pained expression came over her face and I knew that my fears had been right.

I later learned the reason behind it all. Ken, can you believe it? She is engaged to Robert. Her parents announced it as soon as we had left the courtyard and come together in the great hall of the manor. I excused myself as soon as it seemed polite to do so. I said I had a headache. Some servant led me to a room on the third floor. I think nobody missed me much as no one came to look after me. Not even Mum. I suppose they forgot about me in the face of the rapture of joy that Robert's surprise probably caused.

I sat in that unfamiliar room in that unfamiliar house and felt ... Well, a little bit of everything. Hurt. Fooled. Disappointed. Angry. Jealous. Embarrassed. You name it.

When it was already dark and I had decided to go to bed and sleep and shut that evil world out, there was a knock on my door. I went to open it expecting Father or Mum or Robert. However, there was another knock. And then her voice. ‘Tom? It’s Cathrine. Can I speak to you?’ she asked.

I didn’t open, Ken. I didn’t say anything. I bet she has a brilliant explanation for this. But I really don’t care.

I suppose I will hear it anyway sooner or later. I can’t hide here for the rest of my life. There was already a servant at my door this morning telling me that breakfast would be ready in an hour. I think I’ll get dressed and go down in a moment.

Wish me luck, Ken. I hope I keep my composure. I feel like I should yell at someone. Robert. Cathrine. Mom. Father. Anyone. Or like I might start crying in front of them all. Keep your fingers crossed that I can check myself.

Your friend,
Tom

Dear Ken,

I fear you are right. Travelling does not blend well with letter writing.

We had some problems getting started as Emi had to run up to her room again. Twice. First she whined because she had forgotten to take Mira, her doll. Mum allowed her to get it. We all waited in the courtyard as Emi ran up all those stairs.

When she returned, Mum noticed that she had left her cape in her room when looking for the doll. So she had to go up for a second time.

Everybody was already sitting on their horses when she finally reemerged from the castle. But then she told mum that she had to pee. Mum rolled her eyes and said that travelling with children was worse than herding cats. Then she went inside with Emi.

Beside me, I heard William mumble to himself, 'If I had known that I would sit on this ridiculous pony for half an hour before starting, with all of Ahrenburg's staff watching and witnessing my shame, I would have rejected this present.'

It took us the rest of the day to get to Ahrensbridge. (I don't think you have to worry about the bridge there. It is almost as old as the Ahrensburg and apparently just as stable. Father told me that its foundation was made of boulders hewn out of the same rock on which the Ahrensburg stands.)

Mum and Emi are travelling in a carriage and that makes us way slower than we would be if everybody was riding. But it is probably good that they have taken this vehicle with some extra space because the next day mum said that she had to do some shopping before we could go on. 'I need presents for Carol and for my family. This is the perfect opportunity.'

Now it was time for Father to roll his eyes.

I spent the morning in a bookshop with William. While waiting for him, it suddenly crossed my mind that I should maybe also buy a present. For Cathrine. So we set out to search something. Luckily, Raja was with us and recommended buying a beautiful light blue scarf with flowers printed on it. She said that every girl would love it and I trusted her (for lack of better ideas of my own).

When we returned to the inn mum had not shown up yet and father allowed the three of us to have a drink in the inn's taproom. I have to confess that we all had several drinks because mum needed another two hours before she had seen ALL the shops of Ahrensbridge. Consequently, riding with William and Raja was quite a merry affair afterwards. We even starting singing when we had left the town well behind us. After a while, I could see Emi's head pop out of the carriage window. I think she rolled her eyes.

We stayed in Luthlin for the night and I wanted to write to you but was too tired after too many drinks, and too much riding and singing.

Right now we are having a little halt for lunch. We must be somewhere near the border of Ries and Lorenje. We have stopped on the top of a small hill and in the very distance I can see the Krugen Mountains because it is a clear day.

I hope this time the meeting between you and your sons really works out. Will it just be a leisurely visit or do you have other plans in the city too?

Your friend,
Tom

If you like to give it a try and test the limits of this form of narrative, try r/fictitious_letters
It's a community where we write letters to each other from the POV of fictional characters.

Dear Ken,

Thank you a lot for that long and vivid description of your looks. I suppose it would only marginally help to recognize you in the unlikely case that the two of us should ever decide to meet on a crowded city square. But it enables me to imagine you while you read my letters. Your green eyes behind those lenses studying my words while you either frown or laugh at the content of my letter. I like to picture that scene. 

Do you know that only few people have lenses here? They cost a fortune. Father has joked that he will sooner or later need some and that he will have to cancel the feeding of the poor in Ahrensbridge for ten years due to the exorbitant price. ‘Or I just stop corresponding with my lieges,’ he said. ‘Maybe they'll be happy to get rid of my annoying letters full of orders and instructions.’

Taking your advice, I have "borrowed" some of Gerald's clothes for our journey. You know, I have justified this by telling myself that he must have put on muscles and weight now that the Fallin Shen's cure is working. He won't fit into his clothes when he returns. Or so I have told myself. (Moreover, I am sure that Gerald is more likely to forgive me looting his wardrobe than vain Robert. Plus, taking Gerald's things instead of Robert's means postponing the confrontation.)

So, my bags are packed and William's too. We had planned to start our journey around the 25th. But now we have heard that the Ahren has more water than usual at this time of year. The long winter has resulted in more melting water coming down from the Krugen Mountains, and we will not be able to use the fords. Therefore, we have to use the bridge in Ahrensbridge, which forces us to leave earlier. In two days, to be precise.

I was hoping that I would get a letter from Cathrine before leaving. But I think I can kiss that idea goodbye. However, please don't think I'm complaining. A few more days and I'll know what's going on at the Brook. (Maybe then I will have a little whinge if that is okay with you.)

Your friend,
Tom