by Robin Hobb
The letter from Carsina’s father was written in a bold black hand. He wished me well for my continued recovery. He said that looking at death, in any form, could make a man question his life’s direction, and often that was good. It would also make a man bold.
Foolishly bold in some cases. He reminded me that I had yet to earn the right to call Carsina my fiancée, but that he trusted I would, and that he expected all correspondence I sent her to be as honest and honourable as my first letter had been. My parents were well when he had last seen them. His lady wife sent her best wishes as well.
A drop of perspiration trickled down my spine. I wiped my sweaty hands on my shirt and opened Carsina’s letter.
Dear Cadet Nevare Burvelle,
I am thrilled to receive your letter and to know that you are recovering from your illness. The news we had from Old Thares was very frightening.
You asked me if, freed of all parental constraints, I would still choose you to be my husband. I must remind you that we are still not formally promised to one another. Yet if the good god blesses us and you strive with dedication and courage, I am sure that soon we will be. Then the answer will be, yes, I would choose you. I trust my parents’ judgment to guide me in all things, as I am sure you trust yours.
With great affection and in the good god’s light,
Miss Carsina Grenalter
Every word had been spelled correctly. The penmanship looked like something from an exercise book. Without intending to, they had told me exactly what I had bluntly asked. Carsina chose me because she had never had any other choice. Listlessly, I let the letter fall to my bunk. My heart fell with it.
I had all but forgotten my sister’s letter. It alone remained. I opened it by rote. She was glad I wasn’t sick any more, and could I try to find three more buttons to match the ones shaped like blackberries that I’d sent her. She loved me and wished me well.
And to my shock, there was another page folded within Yaril’s missive. Carsina had written to me with pale blue ink on pink paper. I struggled to make out her words.
“My father was so angry, but my mother said it was the most romantec letter she’d ever seen and that he must let me have it to keep. I am so glad. Every girl who has seen it has turned green with envie. My mother tells me that I did choose well, and that your letter shows it for you wish me to be happy with you. Oh, Nevare, I did choose you. When I was seven, I told both our mothers that I was going to marry you when I grew up, because you picked the ripest plums that I couldn’t reach and gave them to me. Don’t you remember that? My mother told me when my father wanted to match me with Kase Remwar. Well, that would never do, for I knew that Yaril was sweet on him. I begged my mother to make a plee that I be matched with you, and she did. So you see, my darling and brave cadet, I did choose you!!!! My heart beats so fast when I think of you. I have read your letter a thousand times. Even my father was impressed with how boldly you asked that question. Oh, Nevare, I am so in love with you. When your brother marries in the spring and you come home to be there, you must wear your uniform, for I am having a dress made that is the perfect shade of green to compliment it. And when our fathers give them to one another, you must find a way to stand next to me, for I am sure that we will make a lovely pair.”
I folded the letter, saving the rest of its sweetness for later. I tucked it into my breast pocket, near my heart, and sat for a moment. I had not chosen her. But she had chosen me, freely. Chosen me over handsome Kase Remwar. I smiled at the compliment. I would see her again, in a couple of months, when I went home for my brother’s wedding. I suspected that, given all I had learned, I would choose her.
I found myself considering a future that might still be golden. I started when Gord plunked a bucket and scrub brush down on the floor by my feet. He held another bucket in one hand. I had a feeling that I looked as foolishly happy as he did. “Good to see you back, Nevare. I picked up your supplies for you. It looks as if we have duty together.”
“That it does, Gord. That it does.”
Smiling, I went to my task.
Acknowledgment
The author would like to acknowledge and thank David Killingsworth for providing information and insight on several weighty matters. It was greatly appreciated.
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