- - -
"She bled unspoken words from her fingers,
Watched as they fell from the ends of her hands,
Until the paper beneath her was smothered,
In thoughts she could not understand"
- e.h.
- - -
In the Harhold estate, through the halls and up staircases, the youngest of the house was hard at work. Wintertide was only a few weeks away, and so many needed their gifts from her. Haeddi was busy writing out a neatly cursive tag when the idea appeared to her. "She bled unspoken words from her fingers,
Watched as they fell from the ends of her hands,
Until the paper beneath her was smothered,
In thoughts she could not understand"
- e.h.
- - -
Studying her handwriting- the looping 'From Haeddi Harhold' that marked the paper- she couldn't help but lean back and give heavy consideration. Gifts were scattered across her bedroom floor in neat towers, others were unwrapped items resting on the windowsill of her room next to a few potted flowers she had taken inside before the snow fell. Her fingers tapped before she sighed and moved the box she had been working on to the floor by the others.
Once sitting, she grabbed out a sheet of fresh letter paper and slid her inkwell close. The Harhold thought another moment before carefully beginning the letter.
——
To Vivienne Héloïse d'Eluise,
Mother,
Hello, it has been quite a while since I sent you any letter. I'm afraid I didn't think you wanted to speak to me due to you not sending anything, but the horse was an interesting gift for me to know otherwise. I had forgotten to respond, apologizes for that.
How is Ithania? I assume that's where you are. Is the snow nice and weather treating you well? All of been healthy here, not frozen despite the frost on the windows and the snowflakes coating everything. I've been wearing a lovely outfit that Madame Lirienne Ravenstad made me once during the summer. Aethelric has been well.
I was gifted a position recently: Grand Curator in the Imperial Court. Are you proud of that? For once I did something, I know you never thought that would happen. I've made friends, done work, and I'm well liked, I like to believe.
Are you proud?
I realize the answer is probably no, but it's worth asking. I know you likely will never answer, so I'll tell you how I feel. I am proud of myself, papa is proud too, even if he doesn't say it. I can finally have my name known besides just being a Duke's daughter.
Some people think I'm strange, I thought perhaps it was because I've always been wordy about strange ideas. Painted pocket watches and doodles of noodles, right? But I've come to discover that they don't find me strange at all for any of that. They find it strange that I am kind and polite while my mother is remembered as Vile.
Did you know they still called you Vivienne the Vile? Even people that never knew you know the name. But I don't think you're Vile, mother. I love you despite the wrong you've done. Do you love me?
I can answer that question myself, no worries. I don't need you to write back if it is an inconvenience to your vacation of ten years. I love myself, at least. Papa loves me, Uncle Aelfric loves me. Remember uncle? He's gone far, I wish you could see how honorable he is.
I won't bother you longer, I realize Wintertide celebrations must be very fun in Ithania. My gift to you is a letter from a loving child. Perhaps your only letter from us all.
Merry Wintertide.
Love,
Your Daughter,
Madame Haeddi Jehanne Danielle Ellaivre Illuminée Harhold
——
Haeddi's pen tapped annoying against her letter once she finished it. Her gaze looked at it with a squint, judging every letter and every word. Lies marked the page- did she really care about the woman's health and happiness? A question someone should never ask.
Briefly, she considered crumbling the note, tearing it apart into a million and a billion pieces. Making it into confetti to color and throw in a party. But no such unhappiness like in this letter's wording would belong in a party.
So instead she inhaled deeply before folding it neatly.
She opened an envelope and slid the note in.
The Harhold pressed her seal onto the envelope flap and smoothed it before neatly writing only the letter's recipient onto the back. There was no address of any sort. How could a letter find a woman without her address?
She didn't know, but maybe it was possible.
Though, she really hoped it wasn't.
- - -
