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To be a Matriarch

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Caliope sat in the Colborn keep with a soft smile gracing her visage as she read the missive. Nobody truly knew how much the woman admired her mother, perhaps not even Caliope herself. However it brought her great pride to read that her mother would be allowed some level of retirement amongst all the stressors of the ongoing war. Of course as she had many times, she would send her mother a letter as well as her Ducal brother.

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Elijah microdosed Ur-Ba within the volcano, and peered upon a missive of his old family. A smile crossed his face, to see that they still thrived throughout these years.

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Philippa hoped this meant that Esfir could take more vacations (north). 

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The eldest son of the new Duke gulped, seeking comfort in reading his storybooks thereafter.

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Edvard Lother Ludovar would read the missive from the Keep of Isaakev. "GODAN be with my Borsa-in-law and my mamej-in-law...I pray for peace," he'd say to himself, then to his wife, who was holding their newborn daughter by the fireplace.

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Warrin would read the missive with a smile, seeing his former Commander rise in status along with his wife. 

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Achillius would stand inside the walls of Portoregne as he pondered what to do next.

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Miyako prepared to bake a cake for the family, she hoped now that Esfir would finally have a bit of time to treat herself!

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Beryl Augustina D’Arkent smiled warmly. “Does this mean you’ll be spending more time with me, Grandimma and Tod? I suppose that means I’ll have to step up, too…” With a grin, she scooped up Tod the Frog, perched him on her shoulder, and dashed off to tackle the day’s adventures.

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Far north, an old ex-ward reads over the missive. Aera smiles, glad that her old mentor would finally get some time to relax. She prayed, in some sense, that perhaps Esfir would be proud of her new career.

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Miroslaw Jazlowiecki smiled and raised a glass from the tragically-diminished Jazlowiecki Liquor stock for the retired Amiratus. “Enjoy your retirement, God knows you’ve earned it.”

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The halls of the Cathedral echoed as Kathryn knelt before the altar. Signing the Lorraine over her frame, she prayed for Achillius, the boy who had grown into a strong young soldier. A leader of blade now made Duke, she wished him wisdom blessed by GOD, that his life be long and happy, and his decisions be made in righteousness. Her prayers turned to Laurelie -  the new Duchess -  and she support her husband with strength and tenderness in all his endeavors. Finally, she prayed for her friend Esfir: "May peace find you, my dear, and the mantle be passed to your noble son. Do not fear; He shall make you proud."

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Malcolm looked over the flyer as it made its way to his home, wincing as he read over the third paragraph in particular. He set the flyer to the side after reading its first sentence, planning to finish reading it some other time, though likely to never pick it up again. 

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A confused priest quips among the gathered war tents of the Burgundian host!:

 

Didn’t we already conquer this one? I’m not wholly sure it’s their title to hand out! HOH!

 

Like any good quipper, he sits back, sips his tea, and takes a puff of his thyme pipe.

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