Letters
My dearest Wren,
I am beginning to doubt your reading of these. Or perhaps I am starting to hope you aren’t. Because if you’ve read them and not responded, then it means they have not aided in my efforts to earn your forgiveness.
We cannot avoid each other forever. Soon enough, an assignment or task will force us to look one another in the eye. I both long for and dread that day. For I miss your eyes, but I fear what I will see when I look into them.
I cannot sense your emotions the way your Curse allows you to sense others, but I know you. I will know if you hate me. I wish it were the case that your hatred would dispel my love. That would make life more bearable, but I know that notion is as hopeless as trying to control the Tides.
There is nothing that would stifle my love for you.
Not the words in your journal. Not the secrets you keep.
The scars you bear. No person’s opinion of you bears any weight in my decision.
Nor does your view of yourself. Nothing you can do will change my mind.
I am convinced that if you drove a dagger through my heart, I would love you unto my dying breath.
I’m begging you, dearest, to believe me. Even if it’s just one sentence in one of my letters. One word. Believe me, and let me prove in person what I have written. I promise you I won’t keep any more secrets from you. I will bare my soul as you have bared yours if given the chance.
Forever yours,
Castien