Judith

[BenevolentManacles 2232]

James,

 

I abandoned her more often than I was with her. It was the nature of our union, that she loved me so dearly and submitted kindly that my duty as a soldier, as a Prince, was paramount. I am a dire sinner, you see, to have not seen the brightness in her smile. I was cold and decrepit, and when I wavered, she remained the pillar of my faith. And with time, I loved her more deeply than any man ever loved a woman.

 

She gave me good children, sons and daughters to be proud of. She gave me good hope, that I may, in my coldness, become affectionate for the sake of it, and for nothing in return. She made my life easy where it should not have been. She was, by all accounts, the greatest thing in my life, which gave to me all other great things. 

 

I have grieved so deeply as this only when you yourself passed on, yet for all you were to me, Judith was everything else. Robert will suffer for the rest of his life for her death and her agonies, for which he finds himself mostly culpable. I can recall the decades of my sons and daughters growing older, asking me where their mother was, what she was doing. They wanted nothing more than to be with her, and to hold her close, and feel the warmth of her most infinite love that I had kept to myself, for her sake. 

 

For the truth is, father, this girl who I married had been sickly all the time. As time passed, she could barely speak to express herself, yet still she smiled, and drew for me the images of the country in her youth; of the windmills of Kaedrin, and the golden fields. I would sit, and hold her hand, and tell her how I loved what she had made for me. Yet so often, she was alone for months on end as I fought with my comrades or embarked on some self-righteous mission to find more Godliness inside myself.

 

For so long as I abandoned her, she sat, smiling, and drawing for me. Silent, and filled with love for her children and myself, and all I could do was mistrust that I was good to her. What else could I do, for a woman who promised herself to me with every fiber of herself, then to expect that I am not enough to make her happy.

 

Now, I will carry with me the hours in the parlor, where paints splattered the pristine imperial rugs. I will forget nothing of her sacrifice, and my selfishness, and remember that despite my sinful self, she truly loved me.

 

Your son,

Philip

 

 

Judith of Crestfall

1764 - 1815

[Nectorist 12870]

Robert Francis wraps himself in the Banner of the Argentate Star, his frail mind unable to handle his mother's death without aid.

[VIROS 2915]

Josephine Augusta withdraws a sketch of a Kaedreni windmill from her memory box, weeping. Only a year earlier, she had lost her grandfather as well—she feels this is the beginning of the end. Little parts of her would keep dying year by year, decade by decade, until she herself passed on as well. Nevertheless, she would persist as long as she could, as her mother had.

[bickando 3967]

Pretty Princess Helen mourns the loss of her mother - on the surface, at least. Beneath the surface, she prepared to celebrate her wicked mother's absence.

[Esterlen 4499]

The crone, Belén de Selm y Lopez celebrates a private victory. At last, the Duke of Crestfall would belong to her and her alone. Now, the only obstacle was her grossly obese husband...

[DahStalker 3692]

18 minutes ago, Esterlen said:

The crone, Belén de Selm y Lopez celebrates a private victory. At last, the Duke of Crestfall would belong to her and her alone. Now, the only obstacle was her grossly obese husband...

Emerentia cringes as she watched Miss Lopez infest House Carnatia with her gross amount of tacky dresses and rat-haired wigs.

[kuerbis 3802]

Anne Caroline refused to believe what had happened when she heard about it. Her being allowed to see her dear mother was a rare enough occurance - but such would not dim out the love and adoration Anne was left behind with.

 

She choked up upon getting a letter which informed her of her mother's passing. She writhes in agony as the air would not reach her lungs. 

 

That night, she sat upon the rooftops of the Pruvian estate. She wept and thought - and when the morning sun began sending a calming glow across the lands, Anne Caroline wrote a simple, scribbled note that said:

 

"Gone sailing."

[ydegirl 2357]

Theodora celebrated the demise of the ugliest Rochefort sister.

[Carson 1165]

"Aren't they cousins?" queries a Mali'ame druid, retching at the thought of such an unholy, unnatural union having ever existed!

[zuziee 4004]

Maisie d’Arkent would hear the news of her sister-in-laws mother passing. Opting to once again put up black curtains in Sunholdt and send them flowers.