Cassandra's Letter

Three week after receiving a condolence letter from Cassandra, my response to her letter had received its own.

To My Dearest Diane,

“You have expressed your worries to me and I endeavor to respond to them as best I can. It is understandable that you are shaken now that someone important to you has died. Such was also the case for the Duke of Corm when his wife died. With that said, however, I worry that the nature of your questioning of Mother will lead you astray. Was Mother not the woman who recovered this country from its darkest time? Are we to downplay the advancements that were accomplished under her rule? The good her policy has done for the common men is no more?

Yes, Mother made a grave mistake that cost her her life, but that mistake was beside her character. The questions you ask risk throwing away Mother’s good in return for the illusion of security. Whether or not you follow Mother’s path, there is no guarantee that such a mistake shall not haunt your record. I suggest that you continue as you were before and move forward to succeed Mother’s position. The good that she embodied far outways her shortcomings and as you mirror her, I’m sure it will be the same for you.

It appears I’d been worried for nothing. Like she had always done before, Cassandra took an understanding tone. That being said, in her support of Mother, she was as ardent as ever. From her, there would be no argument in favor of doubts, only against.

Moving on from the keypoint of my response, the rest of the letter progressed as our letters usually did. To give us something to discuss, my sister did her best to frame her going ons since the last letter in an interesting way. A task that had gotten ever easier as her status in the military grew. The capture of a Multisian spy was always an interesting subject.

As for what I brought to our correspondence, my sister was most interested in hearing how my studies were progressing and what little I could tell her about what Mother was doing. Based on what I told her, she’d seen me tips and instructions on how best to practice.

“Good luck to you in all your pursuits, my sister.” A phrase that had become a common ending to my sister’s letters. This time, however, there was an extra page. “I almost sent the letter before I learned of command’s decision. It’s been decided that William’s deployment in Nordenheim will be coming to an end. Looks like you’ll be meeting him before you meet me.”

Notice of Availability

Diane no longer feels the need to talk to Eliza about her letter to Cassandra.

Ballroom

As to be expected of him, I found my dance instructor loitering in the ballroom with a maid.

“Your Highness?” He said. “Have you come to dance?” I hadn’t practiced with him since completing my lessons. With nothing better to do, the old man had been stealing away some of the less mature maids as replacement partners.

“Not today Gregor.” I walked to the side of the room opposite from him. The young maid bowed and scurried out of the room as I passed by. “I have other concerns.”

“If this is about the maids, I—”

“It is not.” I distanced myself from a tiresome topic. “I’ve come for this painting.” In front of me was the only painting in the ballroom. A painting of a beautiful woman.

“Ah, the portrait of Queen Cecilia?”

“You know the woman?”

“I’m surprised you don’t. It’s taken you this long to gain an interest in her? You’ve been dancing in this room for years now.”

“Well, I apologize for my tardiness. Until recently, I hadn’t thought learning about paintings was something to be considered worthwhile.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ve just taken after your parents. If anything, they should be the ones apologizing for passing on their indifference.” He laughed, but I didn’t.

“So with this would you say I’ve strayed from them?”

Gregor grasped his chin and let out a soft grunt. “A bit. You’ve grown in your own way.” He grinned at me. “But you’re still lacking. Perhaps if you took up dance again in recreation—”

“Back to the painting.” I avoided a tiresome topic yet again. “You say this woman was a queen. If that’s true, why is her portrait here instead of a state room?”

“Well, if you’re having a dance party in Vallis, it can’t go on without a picture or at least a carving of Cecilia. Legend says that in her time those who saw her couldn’t help, but dance with joy. Supposedly, her image still holds some of that power.”

I sighed. “I was expecting something a little less absurd.” If I had known she was born to the Age of Legends, I wouldn’t have asked. Any truth from those times has been lost or warped.

“I think there is some truth to it,” Gregor took a position beside me. “Look into her eyes. Don’t you feel something?”

“Isn’t that just your way of asking me to dance again?” I asked, but he just stood there smiling. Seeing no harm in humoring him, I looked into Cecilia’s eyes. Indeed, when my gaze met hers, I felt something. But it wasn’t the need to dance, it was the desire to try something new. The woman I saw in the painting appeared to be happy without a care in the world. Even if she didn’t believe in the kind of superstition Gregor had told me, she’d have probably played along for the fun of it. I doubt it would hurt to try to be a little more like her. “I suppose you’re right.” I stretched out my hand. “Looking at her does give me some urge to dance.”

Gregor grasped my hand. “You see? In all these superstitions, there’s some hidden truth.”

In Consequence

Diane is interested in learning more about Queen Cecilia within her greater studies of Royal History.