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

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