To my dear sister,
Davian has taken well to his new nursemaid; Miss ab Breckenridge has a remarkable way with him, and I thank you for recommending her. He smiled this morning. He never smiles. After four long years of silence, I have to say that it is good to see her again — to speak to her without the weight of lost life between us. She is being courted by a Vavardi gentleman who looks a trifle like her brother… But Davian is happy! Lord bless her, he is a different babe today than he was a week ago.
Jaridan, of course, is another story. At first he demanded to know the identity of whomever had put Miss Ryden back into the hospital, as if he possessed the arm and skill to track them down and provide them a walloping. When he discovered that no hospital was keeping her away… “irate” does not begin to cover it. I have no doubt that he will adapt, Leda, I just wish that he did not have to do so.
I have had a letter from her, and the contents have alarmed me beyond anything I expected. She professed to be completely unaware of how she demonstrated any of the distressing qualities cited in her dismissal — indeed, flatly denied the lot, and claimed a conspiracy to ruin her was behind it all, rather than own to even a semblance of personal responsibility. If anything could have convinced me that it was the right decision, I suppose her response was it. How could I have failed to notice such a glaring lack of self-awareness? We are but a few years apart in age; I recall eighteen with perfect clarity. At eighteen, had several people cited the same glaring flaws within me, I could not have looked anywhere but inward.
I would have preferred to fight the losing battle unending, Leda; to keep pushing her toward betterment and struggling to help her realize self-reflection, but I could not put my children at risk to do so. I cannot even bring myself to pen a response to her. I am so terribly disappointed. One would think that by now, after so many repeat experiences, I would be immune to trusting too easily and having that trust proven foolish.
I am keenly aware of how many paragraphs reside above, but things are not all bad. Truly, they are far from it. There is more I would confide if you were here with me, but it is… private, I suppose. Too private for letters that might be opened along their way to you.
I cannot wait to see you at Oakenvold this summer. Jaridan is already plotting out adventures for he and Braydon to share.
With Love,
Emma