Letters From Armin: Farewell To Mary

Selected Letters of Armin R. Tolor, No. 3

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 Jason,

Much has happened in such a short time. Your letter contained ill portends as a spot of sun seemed to break out here. I fear the dark clouds over our house have moved south to overshadow you.

We also watched the Duke’s decree when it was broadcast. Father watched it as if he was watching an execution—detached, vaguely mirthful. He sees some opportunity in this, but what it is I cannot guess. Martial Law in the Maristo province seems an overreaction, and it certainly will not endear the Maristos to the Duke nor to their countrymen on the rest of Legrange.

I presume by now this letter will find itself directed to your deployment on Maristo then, instead of the comparative seclusion of your barracks. I hear Maristo is a beautiful country, with palms lining the streets and architecture that could put the Ducal Palace to shame. At least it will be warm there. Winter is beginning to reveal herself to us here in Weyand, last week the nights were bitterly cold—a taste of things to come I’m afraid.

Please tell me of your adventures—I hope you have none, or at least none which are displeasing to you. Hopefully this escalation means the Maristo situation will be resolved quickly, and all parties will sue for peace.

The spot of sunshine here—how do I begin to say? Nine days after my last letter—Mary tells me this was a novena—Father relented quite inexplicably. With nowhere else to turn, faced with her unshakeable resolve, he assented to Mary’s vocation. Before she left to make her preparations, Father organized a social function. There was music and dancing and food and drink. It was as delightful as these things ought to be, though you know they always tax my conscience deeply. I still struggle to converse easily and I felt like I was made of wood the entire evening. I suspect Father had a twofold intention behind this function—first, to show Mary a taste of all she would be missing (it was no temptation for her at all, it seems to me it’s exactly why she finds value in the cloister); second to try to turn Mary’s virtue to his own advantage.

The party was pitched as a farewell dinner in Mary’s honor. He invited some local Barons and Urbans. The Baron of Weyfield and the Baron of Hasker came and both brought their families and courtiers. The Urban of Westerly came likewise. A few prominent but untitled families local to Nordhaus were invited as well. Here I share with you something which has been swimming in my mind, so in telling I attempt to rid myself of it by exorcism. There was a woman who caught my eye, a daughter of one of the untitled local families. I flatter myself that she observed me as well. If we spoke I cannot remember it, but we made rounds in similar circles all evening and I found myself constantly aware of her presence. I don’t know if she was deliberately making herself known to me or if my own neuroses caused me to seek her out. I don’t even know her name.

Why I have spilled so many words on account of a woman who, in all likelihood, has not even noticed me or perhaps found my neurotic gaze alarming, is beyond me. Nevertheless, she was the highlight of the evening and I suppose I must thank God that He blessed me with a momentary and fleeting glimpse of beauty, before I return to the doldrums of Nordhaus—now bereft of even the consolation of my dear sister and confidante, Mary.

The clouds ever threaten the clear sunshine, don’t they? Again, I wish you well in Maristo and I think of you as often as we receive news of events there.

Your friend,

-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.