Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2016 20:55:43 GMT -5
A missive had arrived to Vanderhall, addressed to Lady Isobel Cameron, which had thankfully been received and distributed her along with the rest of the mail for the royal party. She wondered briefly if her letters would be inspected, something about threats to the safety of the royals with whom she travelled, but dismissed such a thought. Who would be writing to her that would hold ill intent for the Princesses? Never mind that, but why would they mistrust her enough to spy on her private correspondance? Regardless, she took the letter with her and waited until it was evening and she had finished her responsibilities to read its contents.
The letter had been written from home, from Marlowe, and so she knew it would contain news of her mother’s health, as well as general conversation for her. It was certainly her first time away from home and her family for such a long time, and she missed them all tremendously. She hoped they felt her absence but that it did not weigh them down - such would only call guilt upon her conscience, more so than she currently felt for not being at her mother’s side even if there was naught to be done by her.
The written words had started on a sour tone, however, written clearly with some has and no lack of delicacy. It bore her cousin’s signature and penmanship, no doubt taking over matters where her father was otherwise distracted. Her throat constricted as she read on: her mother’s health had gone from bad to worse, and they had recalled Tamhas home from the city indefinitely. The cause, she was assured, was natural but the physician who remained in Glencairn Keep with permanency as yet prescribed poor odds of survival for her lack of responsiveness to his ministrations.
Isobel could feel her heart pound in her ears, tightening painfully so that a hand went to her chest. She forced herself to see the letter read to its end, where she was promised to be kept apprised, but that her position with the royal family was respected and that she should only come if it was appropriate to get away.
Isobel simply did not know what to do. Did she ask leave at once to go to Marlowe and to her mother? And what if she rose awake and well in the morning, then she had left in panic for no result. And what if she never rose again at all, Isobel too late to arrive and say or do a thing? No, such a thought made her dizzy and faint and she could not think as such.
For lack of better thing to do, Isobel sat, and she must have remained so for a very long time because the next time the door to the tea room opened - her favourite room in the castle for it had the warmest fire, she felt - her muscles cracked back to life.
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The letter had been written from home, from Marlowe, and so she knew it would contain news of her mother’s health, as well as general conversation for her. It was certainly her first time away from home and her family for such a long time, and she missed them all tremendously. She hoped they felt her absence but that it did not weigh them down - such would only call guilt upon her conscience, more so than she currently felt for not being at her mother’s side even if there was naught to be done by her.
The written words had started on a sour tone, however, written clearly with some has and no lack of delicacy. It bore her cousin’s signature and penmanship, no doubt taking over matters where her father was otherwise distracted. Her throat constricted as she read on: her mother’s health had gone from bad to worse, and they had recalled Tamhas home from the city indefinitely. The cause, she was assured, was natural but the physician who remained in Glencairn Keep with permanency as yet prescribed poor odds of survival for her lack of responsiveness to his ministrations.
Isobel could feel her heart pound in her ears, tightening painfully so that a hand went to her chest. She forced herself to see the letter read to its end, where she was promised to be kept apprised, but that her position with the royal family was respected and that she should only come if it was appropriate to get away.
Isobel simply did not know what to do. Did she ask leave at once to go to Marlowe and to her mother? And what if she rose awake and well in the morning, then she had left in panic for no result. And what if she never rose again at all, Isobel too late to arrive and say or do a thing? No, such a thought made her dizzy and faint and she could not think as such.
For lack of better thing to do, Isobel sat, and she must have remained so for a very long time because the next time the door to the tea room opened - her favourite room in the castle for it had the warmest fire, she felt - her muscles cracked back to life.
_____________________________________
OPEN