|Dearest Row V|
|Summary:||A letter by raven to Squire Rowan Nayland, care of the Crane's Crossing Inn, Stonebridge|
|Related Logs:||Dearest Row IV|
|29th day of Seventhmonth, 288 AL|
Darling, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you. The future you. For surely you'll look back on all this and laugh?
Kiran and I are marvelling over your genius. Lady Anonymous! Brilliant. Such a poignant and delightful comedy belongs on the stage. Oh, your sense of romance! Who knew you had it in you? Certainly not I, and I daresay I know you better than anyone else in the world. We've been up all night writing the first draft of The Confessions of Lady Anonymous — only one hitch. It needs more sex. So get on that, will you?
No, no, no! Do NOT shred this letter! Bad girl! Down. I have so much more love to convey and precious pearls of wisdom to dispense! Mmm. Pearly wisdom. (I might be a little drunk.)
And that would be because we're celebrating! Hymn of the Dragon Queen was a smashing success! King Bob threw us dragons. Gold dragons. We are wealthy beyond our wildest imaginations, sweeting! We plan on building a theatre here — a proper playhouse with lavish accoutrements. I dream that you'll come see it one day. Darling, there's always a place here for you.
And I say that, you wretched, reckless girl, because you're playing with fire. Gods be good, I've had seven episodes of heart failure imagining what might become of this Lady Anonymous plot! For its drama and romance, I adore it… but I fear no good of it can come for you, my heart. You know he'll out you, don't you? No matter how fetching you are in a dress, he'll never accept you as his squire once your little boobies are in the way. No longer will you ride and fight and practice and spend all your days at his side. Should you remain at his side in any capacity — say, as his lady — your lot will be to spend your time in decorous, seemly pursuits, waiting for him to come home. And then what will you have to talk about? Such a life is not for you, dearest Row. We've both known that since I started doing your needlepoint while you snuck off to spy on Uncle Rygar's drills.
If this were a play, you could meet by the dark of the moon, and under cover of night you might kiss and whisper sweetly, but he will never look on your face. Yes, I'm swooning, but the tragedy! How long could such an arrangement last before he (rightfully) demands to know his lady by the light of day, or you are forced to say farewell?
Have you thought, darling, that yours might not be the only heart broken, in that case?
Sweet girl, I love you so. I wish I could help you, or at least hold your hands while you work this through. Oh, and I'm sorry about your first time — another thing I hope you'll look back on and laugh, though I'm sure it doesn't seem so now. Just remember, sex is sex. It's over, it's done, you've nothing to be ashamed of. The impossible standards of virtue men impose on your sex are galling hypocrisy, anways. But I'm certain I'm preaching to the Sept. In any case, if you're fighting and bleeding like a man, you've the right to fuck like one.
Keep me aprised, darling. In the meanwhile, I will give Lady Anonymous a happy ending, whatever happens in the real.
Your devoted brother,