WhimsicalOwl

The letter reached Edith in her sleep, awaiting her during her daily walk to the aviary - rarely did she wander too far from her bees now. It felt wrong, the words she was reading - what sick joke was this? Her niece had been so young, so surely- surely this is what such was. Though, despite the denial, as grief once again reared its ugly head like a monster Edith could never escape no matter how much she prayed, she'd slump against the wall she'd stood by. "Oh, Johanna- you were so young..." the aging woman, who did not yet quite look her age, sighs. "Worry not, for you have not, and could never disappoint me." She'd light a candle, each night following the news. Thoughts drifted to Caius, and the company her niece had found in him. Edith could do nothing but utter prayers for the boy, and the future ahead of him.

"FINALLY, a grandchild," Edith exclaims, though otherwise content to continue taking care of her bees. "'bout time, really,"

[!] Trembling hands grasped the letters that had arrived to her, as the grieving woman struggled to grasp the feeling of absence, not unfamiliar - and yet, nothing had ever hurt Edith- Lenora- quite like this. ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ Out of all the people in the young Vuiller's life, even above her own mother, had Lenora looked up to her father the most. Her father- who no matter how busy he was, had always made time for her. No matter how much love she held for her mother, her aunts and uncles, it was her pa that she sought to make proud the most. Perhaps it was that fact that had set her on this path of hers, what had made her turn away from the streets of Balian, warm beaches replaced with white walls and citrus trees - and most importantly, the bees. If her mother had still been alive, when her grandfather had burdened her with that choice all those years ago, would she have chosen differently? What if, what if, she had always hated 'what ifs'. No. The answer was no. Her pa was more important than anything. No matter what cards she had been dealt. ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ Most letters, Edith had the habit of tossing away, but not her father's. No, this one would be preserved - as was decided by her grief ridden mind from the moment it fell into her grasp, tucked neatly within the frame of her father's portrait. As for Helena's. . . ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ She remembered those stressful times so clearly - the conflict, arguments that the then de Senna had always preferred to avoid. Family isn't meant to fight, a lesson she had learned from her father, long before these arguments seemed like a possibility. For so long had Edith put Helena's existence out of her mind, memories too closely tied with the spiral of her twin to ever unpack. Maybe that, in the end, was why that fragile bond of theirs had never mended - not out of hatred, but out of avoidance. Though she had her own regrets, at least Edith could rest knowing their last words spoken would be out of forgiveness.

"Hehe, nice!" Edith cheers for her little sister!!

Edith gives a massive thumbs up to her daughter's missive!

"People should definitely invest in shops here," Edith nods repeatedly, shoving copies into the hands of whoever she came across along her travels.

"This invitation is difficult to read," Edith shakes her head, "over-complicated- eurgh, I'll just assume I'm invited."

"A scheming, no good woman from the start - if only people weren't so blind as to not see it," Edith comments, a hand placed upon a portrait of Lorena. "Justice now, by whoever's hand, shall be served."

"Eugh," Edith sneered, gazing upon the parchment with disdain. "Spineless- he should be dead." A deep breath, and then a sigh escapes her. "-but, judgement as far as that goes, has already been cast." Sadly did she think of her cousin, and how Adrian had betrayed her so carelessly. "Eurgh, may I never cross paths with that fool again."

Likewise did Avarine roll in her grave at such a blatant lie, the tradition clearly having been started by her dead godfather.

Edith most certainly had mixed emotions over this one, but hey! At least THIS marriage had at least gotten their father's approval, unlike someone's. . . "Well, at least she's getting married, I guess. Thought it would never happen - even if she abandoned her faith. . ." Edith did grumble to herself, "I'll be the only one of my little family attending, though, I do reckon. If only because Eirene is like, one of the two original siblings I have left, and so clearly amongst the favourites. . ." she'd ramble, quite stubborn in her disapproval in the faith related side of things. "What to gift them, what to gift them. . . eurgh, I'll have to figure it out before we go to WAR!"

"All it took was one incident in Reinmar. . ." did Edith Barclay muse, finding humour in it more than anything. "Looks like Fred went through all that trouble getting a license for nothing- a waste of time, pfah." At least the injured would not have to fear death just because there was never any physicians or medics around now. Why were they never around when you need them?

Actually insane

"FINALLY" Edith cheers at how cool Ezra is