Letters From Armin: Enchantment

Selected Letters of Armin R. Tolor, No. 7

This is Selected Letters of Armin R. Tolor, a serial which will release every three weeks. To catch up on past letters, see The Index. For information on the illustrations, see the footnote¹

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Dear Mary,

Thank you for your kind words and counsel. You were always the wisest of us, and how deeply we miss you now—yet I am glad that you can offer some consoling words to me, even on such trivial matters as I presented in my previous letter.

The reason there was no mention of Ella in the previous letter was because she was visiting her suitor, the Dukes second son, in South Legrange. Father was so anxious while she was there—hoping she would say something to elevate him. It is clear to me that he is profoundly jealous that she has entered the confidence of the Duke sooner than he did. He operates under the fear that the Duke doesn’t know his name, and must be convinced of his worthiness as a loyal Count. For Ella to skip all the machinations and simply marry into the family—against Father’s careful planning—reads to him like a slap in the face.

They have returned together, and are here at Nordhaus as I write. I am hiding from them in my room, writing this to you, because I do not much enjoy socializing with them. Father asks at every meal whether the Duke himself will honor our house with a visit. It is increasingly apparent that there is no such plan.

The Maristo affair has become complicated. It is no longer a quiet drama playing out over there, it consumes the minds of everyone except for Ella and her suitor—his name is Georg. The King has issued a formal reprimand to the Duke for allowing things to get out of hand. This is little more than a slap on the wrist, but it certainly hurts his image. The King has deployed the Navy to our fair planet Tilade in hopes of preventing the so-called “Maristo Navy” from attacking and doing anything disastrous. It seems to me that this Admiral Ketto accomplished all he needed to by his mutiny alone, and drawing the ire of the King. He will surely suffer for it, but perhaps history will find that his act hastened peace? This is an unpopular thing to say, I have found—we can only speak with utmost condemnation of the Maristo Navy and people take turns trying to use the harshest language in doing so. I find it all so tiresome.

Regarding the actual problem that initiated this—the Count of Midlands and the Count of Maristo have agreed to mediation with the Duke and the Viceroy. A truce has been called, and I hope this means that Jason will have a quiet moment to write again soon.

I appreciate that you asked about…well, it feels awfully familiar for me to say “Thank you for asking about Catherine” as if we are very well acquainted, but that is her name and we have, in fact, run into each other again.

Honorable Mr. Tark raised some issue with the Count, and Father absentmindedly sent me to handle it. I rode to the Tark estate quite unprepared to find Mr. Tark and Catherine waiting outside to greet me—I didn’t realize Tark was her family name. If I allow myself permission to speculate, I would say the request to the Count was mere pretense, and an astute understanding that it was too trivial to demand his personal attention.

Let me begin by saying the Tark estate had a most charming spirit to it. It was not a gaudy, multi-level palace like Nordhaus, but a one-story affair that wrapped around a large courtyard, the shape of a square “U”. There were gardens and orchards—I understand the property itself is quite expansive but they haven’t developed it, preferring to leave it pristine for their enjoyment.

I was enchanted by the property, and when Mr. Tark found some pretense to excuse himself he left me in the pleasant company of Catherine, and then I was enchanted by her. Conversation flowed easily, and she told me of her many exploits and adventures on their estate. Allow me relay one anecdote: Catherine is the only child of the Honorable Mr. and Mrs. Tark, and she is quite the apple of her fathers eye. One day she got turned around in the woods when a rainstorm swept in. Her father was used to her marching off into the woods for hours at a time, and was engrossed in some activity so hardly noticed she was gone, much less that it had begun to rain. When Catherine finally returned—soaked head to toe—her Father saw her and was alarmed, and Catherine exclaimed, ‘I’ve found you! Oh thank heavens I was worried you’d gotten lost!’

I laughed like I feel I’ve never laughed before. I found myself envying her idyllic upbringing. She is clever and creative—she showed me manuscripts and works of art she had created, I had the impression she was entrusting me with a dear and precious thing. I can’t put words to it. I am starting to think this was more than just polite conversation.

At length, Mr. Tark returned and, on finding his daughter still inexplicably enjoying my company, invited me to return for dinner in a week.

My heart is back in my throat and Once more I feel quite wooden.

There’s a commotion downstairs, I suppose the engagement may have just happened. I am sorry to cut this letter off less admirably than my previous letters. I look forward to updating you on Ella’s fate when next I write.

I miss you dearly.

Love, your brother,

-Armin

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1. Illustrations were created on commission by

The Chronicler

. If you are interested in commissioning The Chronicler to create artwork for your own project, see this page HERE.