Letter
Dearest Father,
I fear there is a lot I must beg forgiveness for between us.
I am under no misconception that Jonas has been keeping my secrets, and I am sure you are well aware of my gallery disaster that happened over a year ago.
Like Icarus, I flew too close to the sun, so comfortable in my position and confident in my skill that I did not consider the ramifications of baring myself to the world.
I thought myself safe, not only beneath your name, but also beneath your trust. All my life, you have promised me acceptance, no matter what I chose to do.
Your love is the greatest gift I have ever been given, and I lament at the idea of my disgrace reflecting poorly on you.
Silly, isn’t it? Over a century old, and yet I am still that same little girl terrified of disappointing her father.
My self-imposed isolation has done well for me, I think, though I do miss you all terribly.
I’ve grown quite fond of my little chateau, and of those within it.
It is of no surprise to me that my foolish brother has already told you, but I have found myself quite hopelessly and desperately in love.
My Theodore and Kolfina have been instrumental in building my courage and repairing my broken heart.
I have even found myself sketching again just for the fun of it.
Painting still alludes me most days, but my brush has been growing lighter in recent months, and it has gotten easier to let myself create for the sake of creating again.
Did Jonas tell you some acquaintances of ours are interested in purchasing some of my private works?
We met at the younger Lord Macabre’s dinner party in the city, and they lamented about missing my final showing.
They even mentioned knowing a few others who have expressed interest, as well as a desire to hire me for commission.
Perhaps my dear brother is not such a hopeful fool afterall.
I must confess, breaking my silence and begging forgiveness is not my only reason for writing you.
As you’ve likely heard already, an incident happened at the aforementioned dinner, and I find myself in need of your expertise, and perhaps even your assistance.
Up until that night, my Kolfina has held no memories of her life leading up to her death, but upon Lord de Klein’s abrupt and unwelcome interruption at the party, many of her memories have returned to her, though carrying with them more questions than answers.
We have reason to believe that Kolfina’s death was no accident, nor was it the apparent suicide it was labeled as.
While we are quite confident that her widowed husband is behind the incident, there are other factors that elude us in regards to why it was done—namely a cellar full of magic that I am, unfortunately, unable to decipher.
As a member of the ruling council, I hoped perhaps you would do us the honor of a visit to fill in the gaps and provide answers, as well as assist us in seeking justice.
I look forward to your reply.
Your daughter, always,
Azizi Darling
P.s.
Please tell my dearest brother that he may cease his influx of worried letters. Kolfina is returned and well, and I refuse to send another letter telling him so. I’ve instructed Allard to toss them in the fire should he see another one.