Scarlet:
Tonight, as I ran my fingers over the amber hairpin you left behind in the Stargazing Tower, the distant chime of the Creed's bell rang out-suddenly, I was swept back to your days in Byrnhald.
I still can't understand it-how could that boy's naive promise move you to follow him into crumbling ruins, gnawing on dried bread in the wilderness, all while risking your life?

If it were excitement you craved, I would have donned a gladiator's armor and dueled beneath your window till sunrise. If it were poetry you loved, I, a graduate of the Royal Academy, could have drowned your tent beneath a sea of sonnets.
But no-you chose that lunatic who crouches among rubble, caked in mud and rust, chasing after moldy remnants of a forgotten past.

Three marriage proposals from royal princesses sit unopened on my desk-and I've turned every one of them down. Don't mistake it. I'm simply waiting to see the look on your face when regret finally finds you.

Baron Ravenkraw