[P] to contain multitudes

[Orestes]




LADY MARISOL,

The first words we ever exchanged were over parchment, and you mentioned the sea. 

It struck me and continues to strike me; there is so much we do not know of one another. I have laid awake at night wondering what the sea may have told you of me; what transgressions or heroic moments, my worst or best days. There is nothing I would rather do more than share with you these things myself and, hopefully, learn more of your own self. There is much we don’t know but there is so much beauty in that. 

You do something to me I have not experienced in lifetimes; the newness of this is like experiencing spring for the first time. It frightens me. I am unaccustomed to these things, but I have meant every word I have shared with you, Marisol. I write you not as a Sovereign tonight, but as a friend and a suitor. 

Call me cliche, but I have an evening planned for us. In two nights, as the sun is setting, meet with me at Amare Creek. I have an evening planned if you are available, and I would like to hear of how not only your Court is fairing, but yourself. It has been a difficult season in many ways, but better than the last. The first time we met we were both fresh monarchs—me more so than you—and by now, seasons have passed. We have entered a new state of normalcy, which has its own struggles and elations. 

And Mari?

I have missed you.

—ORESTES