Her red box of memories

4 Súlìmë: Letter from Serinde to Morwen

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Pelargir, 4 Súlìmë, IV3

Now I really have had enough! That man is no good for her, Morwen. I realise that I am not Leoba’s mother but I am at a loss and hope that you, who know more about this whole affair than I, can advise me on how to handle our sister.  Dirk has written to her again, at last. He is messing with her head, telling her that he loves her but that she must forget him, that he is renouncing her but that if she’s lucky he might change his mind; not that Leoba showed me the letter but there are only so many places to hide something in her room

I have made a copy for you because I really think you need to see word for word, the eye-popping arrogance of the man and also the very interesting reveal. Did you know anything about his shocking heritage?! I tell you, it’s news to us here. If Leoba had a inkling of it, then that is a card she’s played extremely close to her chest.

There has been an awful atmosphere around the house since the letter arrived yesterday afternoon. One of the guards’ messengers came to the door with it just as we were finishing up lunch and asked for her by name, as is the way with official correspondence. Leoba opened it there and then and read the letter in front of the messenger. I honestly thought that Dirk had died when I saw the initial look on her face; she went deathly pale and I’m sure would have collapsed if the man hadn’t given her his arm to steady her. She spent a good half hour in the street, reading and re-reading his missive and sniffling, never mind all the neighbours having a good ogle. I’ve already had half of them around here asking me what was up.

I had a bit of a heart to heart with her later about it. Even Leoba called her lover a fool then, though I expect not for the same reason I might. She is hopelessly besotted: the heart makes its home in some very inappropriate places if you ask me for he is absolutely not good enough for her. 

Dirk is breaking her heart.  We are the ones picking up the pieces. And if he has the gall to come sniffing round here again like a dog on heat after all he’s said and done to her then I WILL NOT be responsible for my actions and neither will Carandil.


Written by leobavorima

January 20, 2013 at 9:11 pm

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