Letters
My dearest Wren,
I love you.
I love you, Wren. It’s as if I was made to, with how easily it comes to me. I tried to convince myself not to allow such a strong feeling for you, but it was no use. Like our Gifts, my love for you is inescapable.
Since I’ve read your journal, I know that you are not likely to believe my love for you or accept it.
There is a great possibility that it goes unrequited.
But as I said, I cannot be freed of it. I am bound, but I find the shackles never weighed heavily upon me until I was faced with losing you.
Only now do I even recognize their weight.
In chains,
Castien
If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.