From Lord John Grey, Heimdallhaus To Ariadne, late of Valeria
My dear --
There is nothing to forgive, neither in the haste of your letter nor in the hand with which it is written. My own merely was derived from many a carefully tutored year, and a great deal of practice besides.
Nor do you speak out of turn. I welcome your curiosity, and your conversation, and I am happy to give you further detail of their character. I was not so lucky as to be joined by any of their number in this city, though I keep telling myself that perhaps that is for the best. Best that it is only myself, if the rest of them might remain safe and happy in their normal lives.
But I digress. I do, in fact, have three brothers, as my mother had been married once before. I do not know my stepbrothers Paul and Edgar all that well, however, as they are sixteen and thirteen years my senior, and we were raised in separate households. My brother Harold -- Hal, is still nine years older than myself, and remarkably similar in countenance, though I am told I am the spitting image of my father. I cannot say for certain, as I am sorry to say that he passed away when I was but a boy of twelve. Hal is doing his duty to carry the family name and has produced with his wife Minnie three sons and one daughter, and I do believe that she will cut him at the knees if they are to have any more. A day spent as Uncle John with Benjamin, Adam, Henry, and Dottie is perhaps even more taxing on the body than a day spent in drills. Was your family much larger than that? I cannot imagine how you might have had the energy.
Not knowing what the army is like where you are from, I cannot speak in any certainty of their differences. But I am happy to answer any questions that you might have on the subject. I fear there is far too much to write in one single letter, though I am willing to speak of it as much as I can.
You had sent with your letter a sprig of what I do believe to be rosemary. Did you grow that yourself in this garden of yours? A garden is quite a useful way to turn your hand. I fear my own skills are somewhat less so, and mostly contained to the gentlemanly sports of hunting, horseback riding, and fencing.
Perhaps there will be something for me yet. For now, it would seem, I write letters. For now, I remain,
Your ob't. servant, John William Grey, Esq. Heimdallhaus, Block One, House Three
in the same hand, with the same seal
To Ariadne, late of Valeria
My dear --
There is nothing to forgive, neither in the haste of your letter nor in the hand with which it is written. My own merely was derived from many a carefully tutored year, and a great deal of practice besides.
Nor do you speak out of turn. I welcome your curiosity, and your conversation, and I am happy to give you further detail of their character. I was not so lucky as to be joined by any of their number in this city, though I keep telling myself that perhaps that is for the best. Best that it is only myself, if the rest of them might remain safe and happy in their normal lives.
But I digress. I do, in fact, have three brothers, as my mother had been married once before. I do not know my stepbrothers Paul and Edgar all that well, however, as they are sixteen and thirteen years my senior, and we were raised in separate households. My brother Harold -- Hal, is still nine years older than myself, and remarkably similar in countenance, though I am told I am the spitting image of my father. I cannot say for certain, as I am sorry to say that he passed away when I was but a boy of twelve. Hal is doing his duty to carry the family name and has produced with his wife Minnie three sons and one daughter, and I do believe that she will cut him at the knees if they are to have any more. A day spent as Uncle John with Benjamin, Adam, Henry, and Dottie is perhaps even more taxing on the body than a day spent in drills. Was your family much larger than that? I cannot imagine how you might have had the energy.
Not knowing what the army is like where you are from, I cannot speak in any certainty of their differences. But I am happy to answer any questions that you might have on the subject. I fear there is far too much to write in one single letter, though I am willing to speak of it as much as I can.
You had sent with your letter a sprig of what I do believe to be rosemary. Did you grow that yourself in this garden of yours? A garden is quite a useful way to turn your hand. I fear my own skills are somewhat less so, and mostly contained to the gentlemanly sports of hunting, horseback riding, and fencing.
Perhaps there will be something for me yet. For now, it would seem, I write letters. For now, I remain,
Your ob't. servant,
John William Grey, Esq.
Heimdallhaus, Block One, House Three