Castles and Dreams

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi sighed and put a finger between two sides of the large volume she was brooding over and closed it. Really, there was no use today trying to read.
The old tales of Lamora, from the times before the war, didn't hold so much thrill for her today. Normally she would be sitting here, the tip of her nose almost touching the so wonderful smelling parchment, all immersed in the stories of the great queens and wise men of Lamora.

But since this disturbing meeting on the market the other day, nothing was as it should be. Now she couldn't keep Chase off her mind even at broad daylight, always turning their short conversation over and over in her head. She had not caught a glimpse of him ever since and that made her even more dreamy. The way they had joked around, like they were old friends! Wonderful… just wonderful...

She caught herself staring out of the window into space, and shook her head wildly. Enough of this silliness! Maybe she should rejoin the other ladies-in-waiting, who were busy planning the perfect birthday party for Princess Christabel. This reverie would get her nowhere, and maybe the constant babbling and gossipping would do her better than this tempting silence!

Back to Queen Dolvana and her glorious reign, Celvi chided herself. A bit of study wouldn't hurt her and the great-great-grandmother of Queen Artemisia was truly an outstanding and interesting personality. Lamora had prospered beyond belief under her rule, those had been peaceful times, full of laughter, artifice and high-levelled standards – or so the chroniclers made her believe.
Not like those troublesome times nowadays where the war was the only thing people could think about, the gist of their short and arduous lives. No husbands and wifes torn apart, no one seperating girls from their fathers…

She had to bite her lip hard to keep from crying. How long since she had last received a letter from him? Weeks, if not months! Who knew what he was going through?
Bad news travel faster than good, she tried to calm herself.
The thought of news and messenges did it for her. In an instant she was staring into space again, a distant smile on her face…

[Ruler Of Ion]

The widowed Countess, strode down the hallways with a determined, yet very indifferent expression on her face. Her full, maroon skirts of her classical styled dress, swished around her with each graceful step. Her posture was regal; straight in the back, head held high and arms held precisely that created a very elegant figure. She was a perfectionist in upholding the ideal noble woman appearance.
Her pace was not slug slow of those who had idle minds and nothing better to but wander, nor was it the quickened stride of someone in a rush.
It was the gliding step of a well mannered noble woman, something she had attempted to teach her niece, Celvi many times but had gained little in the steps toward perfection. Her niece was girl of a nature unsuitable for high society. She lacked the polished politeness and skills of the other Ladies In Waiting, but she tried very hard to find perfection in her ways and was very close to achieving it. ‘Very much like her mother,’ the thought often blessed Dagmara’s mind. And truth be told, Celvi was indeed alike in many ways to her late mother. Both had the air about them that made you think of a caged bird, waiting for its release.

Dagmara, was proud of her niece, though she hardly showed it publicly. She honestly was very fond of her, but had to drill the mannerism of the Court into Celvi to ensure her survival amongst the animals called Nobility. Nobility had a way of sheltering their own weaknesses by feasting on others’ and she feared her niece getting terribly hurt if she didn’t grow a thick skin.

Closing the distance between herself and her destination, Dagmara gathered herself to confront Celvi and ask why she wasn’t in her respected place with the other Ladies In Waiting. She had heard a servant say the young Lady was up in the library, and was putting an end to Celvi’s time amongst the written word.
With a gentle knock on the old oak doors, she slid into the room in a soft rustle of skirts.

“Celvi, what are you doing” her curt voice rang into the air, as she spotted her niece staring down at a piece of literature. “I do believe you have duties calling for your presence” the Countess continued, stopping a two feet short of where Celvi stood, her face somber by a unknown thought.

[Celvi Gray]

It was not easy for Celvi to conceal her emotions and thoughts nowadays, and it got even harder everytime she gave in to them. Though she knew her need for relief and freedom was now satisfied with the stroll down to the market for at least four weeks, another need suddenly had taken its place: Seeing Chase and talking to him, best in private and unrecognized. Open the door for a cage bird just for a second, and then when you close it again, he won't be able to forget…

Sighing she fiddled with a strand of her long curls, disarraying her perfect hairdo almost on purpose. She was alone in this room, no need for perfection. Furthermore her gown had gathered a bit of the fine dust always coming around with libraries and old volumes. A little snort of laughter escaped her lips as she looked down at herself. Well, what Aunti Dagmara didn't know won't hurt her…

“Celvi, what are you doing”
The sharp voice made her jump. Wherefrom in the world had Aunt Dagmara materalized so quickly? Wasn't she always the one to knock before she entered a room? It was so unlike her to sneak up on her niece in that way… Or had Celvi herself been so deep in thoughts she had overheard her aunt approaching? A disturbing thought!

With a little delay Celvi sprang to her feet and tried to stand upright. "Aunt Dagmara!"
Suddenly she felt very self-conscious, very aware of the stray hair and the little specks of dust on her gown. It was always like that with her aunt. She detected every little untidiness and used it to start a debate on principles.

“I do believe you have duties calling for your presence”
Celvi surpressed a sigh and forced herself to smile politely. She didn't hate Dagmara, not in the least, she was the closest to a mother she had after all, but she felt another lecture being on the way and she was so not in the mood for that now. Which one would it be this time? The "public presence is the gist of a lady's life" or the "perfect appearance at any given time is the first and most important step to acceptance"? Or a combination, since she had sinned against both?
How typical Dagmara should be coming to fetch her for the other ladies. As if they needed her advice in any way…

"With all due respect, aunt", she said and gave a little curtsy, "but isn't the thorough knowledge of our past the duty of every educated woman? I was perfecting my knowledge of the time of Queen Dolvana the Great."

[Ruler Of Ion]

As Celvi scrambled to her feet, Dagmara watched in slight disapproval, thoughts of proper manners springing into her head and nearly to her tongue, buts she paused herself from speaking. Celvi knew better to be sitting on the floor, or to move in such a quickened manner. Women were supposed to uphold an appearance of grace and elegance, and rushing about ruined that image terribly so. And to make matters worse, only servant women could rush around with a blind eye turned toward them.

Dagamar did a full sweep of Celvi, taking in every crumpled crease in her gown from sitting and the dust that speckled the fine fabric. Her hair had strands hanging out of place. Had nothing of those lessons in etiquette stuck in that flighty mind belonging to her niece? One would of have assumed that at least the basics of being a lady in High Court would have been easy to remember, but Celvi had now just put doubts on that theory.

The Countess raised an arched brow at the younger Lady’s words. Ah, there was the manners she had been drilled in long ago. The curtsy wasn’t as crisp as Dagmara would of have preferred , but it would suit her for the moment’s time. A mental note was taken of adding a review on curtsying for another day and time. For now, she was going to remain neutral in the ways of correct mannerisms, and not overbear Celvi with anther lecture. However a reminder was in perfect course of the day.

“Reviewing your country’s history should be more preferable on a later date, should it not? For if my memory serves me right, today was the day the Ladies were to plan the Princess’s, party?” She asked, a serious eye trained on her Niece, looking for falters in her form and awaiting her reply. If she took one misstep in her reply, she would give her the more favorable lecture on neglecting one’s duties for time spent idly. Idle time was for those sloth and daft at mind. Not for the well educated society.

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi could see the mild frustration in her aunt's eyes and felt bad at once. How badly she was repaying her all that she had done for her! She had tried everything to be a good girl and act on all the manners hammered into her, but there were clear limits, and often Celvi hated herself to be so complicated. Why couldn't she just be like Lady Mary Newcomb or the others? They always were perfect in anything!

Slowly she moved her left hand over her skirt, secretly trying to smoothen it and remove at least the majority of the dust. Really, sitting on the floor had been the worst idea of the day, as long as she lived here she should have finally learned to be prepared for anything, even for a sudden meeting with her aunt. And what Chase would have thought, seeing her like that! The the sheer thought made her cheeks colour a bit. Nervous and angry at herself, she hoped Dagmara would blame it on her bad conscience.

Of course her aunt would not have her sitting here while others made 'important decisions' (nothing was more unimportant in Celvi's eyes than the scheme of Christabel's birthday party). So what if the spoilt princess turned seventeen? She was still considerably younger than Celvi herself and another year wouldn't erase that. But that, of course, she couldn't tell her aunt. She would be horrified by this show of disrespect.
"I don't think they need me anyway", she confessed and lowered her gaze to the dusty ground. "It doesn't matter to them if I am there or not, they think nothing of my opinion."

This would not let her off the hook, maybe would even make things worse, but Celvi was in no mood to just say 'yes, Ma'am' and go. Every little word would be a reprieve from having to play the game of 'Celvi Gray, dutiful ladie-in-waiting'.
She wondered if fetching her for the Princess' Chambers was all Aunt Dagmara had in mind. Had she received a letter from Father? Or was their something else, something Celvi didn't even dare to think?

[Ruler Of Ion]

Dagmara could sense the immediate uneasiness in her niece’s demeanor. Celvi had sensed her disappointment. ‘Good, I’m glad she has found her mistake in manners. Saves me from repeating a lecture’ Dagmara thought with a private inner smile. As much as she loved passing on her vast knowledge of correct behavior to those junior to her many years, she disliked causing discomfort felt when having to listen to a repeated lecture.

The Manner’s Witch, who could be picky and hard to please, had to act that way in order to pass on a lost art to those of younger years. With each new generation, a bit of history in etiquette is forgotten and lost. And as a lover of the manner society, Dagmara refused to stand by idly, a sin against Noble women, and watch her beloved world of manners cease to exist. Without a basic code of public behavior, Lamora would be reduced to the barbaric society that so pleasantly rid the world of in the past.
So many writings of the past had spoken of now extinct civilizations, who’s downfall was the result of lacking a society of mannered people. Barbarians had spoken rights of causing many downfalls and she feared that result for Lamora.

She watched pleased, as Celvi began removing the dirt from her skirt in a discreet manner. ‘Do not bring unneeded attention to yourself in public’ the rule of the Lady’s code popped into the Countess’s mind. A very reserved smile danced on her lips. That small move on Celvi’s part had redeemed herself from total disapproval from her Aunt.

“They don’t need you” she questioned, a slight tone of concern mixing with amusement in her voice. “And why don’t you think your opinion matters? It does matter, even if you may think it doesn’t.” The elder lady paused then placed a caring and gentle hand on Celvi’s chin and brought her gaze from the floor to meet her own. A simple touch from a woman who rarely graced anyone without a critical word or look. “You are a bright and charming young lady who’s opinion matter most to many abroad.” Her hand moved back toward her side. “Let me share a secrete with you, They may not show it for they are truthfully jealous they hadn’t thought of it first.”

[Celvi Gray]

Had Celvi known she was further away from a long and annoying lecture as she might have thought, her inner attitude might have been a different one. Instead of relaxing, she prepared herself for the worst, shifting her balance to a comfortable footing in case she might need to stand here for a long time. It wasn't like Aunt Dagmara to let such a chance slip through her bony fingers, so why should she refuse to teach her manners once again?

Deep down in her heart she was grateful for many of these lectures, for without them she would not be here today. A group of sworn in girls was always ready to pick on the one who stuck out, the new one, the different one. Without her well-trained nonchalance and perfect manners she wouldn't have survived a day amongst the others. To be ignored was far better than being picked on, though Celvi would have liked to call at least one of the girls a close friend.

As she heard her Aunt speak Celvi thought she was mishearing. But then she felt her chin being lifted and as she looked into Dagmara's eyes, she realized her aunt didn't want to taunt her, she meant what she said. How was that possible? Her, bright and charming?! Didn't Aunt Dagmara tell her at least twice a week what a failure to society she was and always would be?
Why this sudden change of tune? In this moment Celvi suddenly felt as close to this woman who had acted for her mother as never before in the past five years. Could it be there was a little bit of affection and approval left for her?

The thought made her eyes sting, and she blinked a few times, struggling to regain her composure, hoping Dagmara would turn a blind eye on her features for once.
"Jealous?" she asked incredulously, her voice quivering the tiniest bit. "Jealous of what? I honestly don't think I am as bright as you put it. I have no special ideas in mind to make Christabel's day perfect." She added, adopting the overexcited tone she had been spotting on many a Ladie when talking about the special day to come.

This was maybe pushing her luck, but she didn't believe it would last anyway. Dagmara must have had one of her nostalgic moments, thinking about the good days past. That might be the reason she was whitewashing her niece today.
"Is there any other reason bringing you here?", she asked, keen to prolong the talk.

[/size]

[Ruler Of Ion]

Dagmara regained her cool demeanor after the slight emotional slip of compassion towards Celvi. Her face hardened into the emotionless mask she wore daily, one that gave away nothing behind what she thought. That one small act was what she thought was plenty to prove her point that Celvi was a prized mind amongst loons who couldn’t think past what they were going to wear that afternoon. She was a strong young woman who could do much in her life, as long as she was shaped into the proper model citizen first.

The countess had decided early on after taking the role of the matron figure to Celvi. She wasn’t going to baby her niece and let her wallow around in a soft shell. She needed to grow a thick skin and develop a immunity to harsh comments in order to survive. Often she may have regretted being extremely harsh on Celvi when drilling her into establishing perfection of her etiquette in society.
Dagmara had achieved that, but now was not going to stop keeping up the act of being a hardened woman to keep Celvi practicing her ways.

“Talking in such ways about the Princess’s birthday is a sin, Celvi” Dagmara hissed sternly sensing the false excitement in her niece‘s tone, “Do you have a wish to have your position as a Lady In Waiting revoked by talking badly of the Heir to the Thrown of our wonderful country? Do you want to disgrace your family name?” Dagmara turned her gaze into one of great disappointment, skillfully analyzing how distressed the outmost of Celvi’s appearance began to show. ‘Showing unnecessary emotion is a sigh of fragile mind set’ Dagmara scoffed mentally.

“Is reason of wondering where my niece is enough to fill your curiosity, Fay darling” the Countess responded curtly. She looked on disapprovingly, before nonchalantly smoothing out a unwelcome crease in her skirt then returning her gaze to the young Lady.

[Celvi Gray]

Close season was off, Celvi realized as she watched her aunt's face change into the indifferent mask it usually showed.
But the sheer force of disapproval and indignation that befell her now she hadn't expected and she winced. Hadn't she still felt the soft touch of Dagmara's hand from mere seconds ago – she would have shrugged it off as a daydream.
Unexpected things seemed to happen to her a lot lately. But they weren't lasting, and one should better not rely on those. Speaking the mind was a luxury no one at court could afford more than once in a while.

Dagmara's voice cut like a knife through her thin mask of indifference, and once again Celvi's eyes started to sting, this time with sadness and frustration. But no, she was a Lady, a well-mannered and composed woman, and she would not give Aunt Dagmara or anyone else the satisfaction of making her cry. Not now, not ever again! It was about time all those lessons started to bear fruit!
Celvi squared her shoulders the tiniest bit, but lowered her gaze to not appear overbearing. Then she lowered herself into another curtsy, and started to speak in a well-tempered, almost unemotional voice.

"Forgive me, if I sounded ungrateful, that was by no means my intention. Of course I do not wish to forfeit my prospects. Maybe it was my young ambition to study that made me forget my other duties." She dared to look up, forcing a mild smile on her face. Surprising as it was, it didn't cost her all too much. Training is everything...
"I think you're right, I should join them, no matter what they think of me. For, like you said: It is not important that you are there but that you are seen."

Aunt Dagmara using her nickname hit her like another slap in the face. She had used the wold 'darling', but the way she sounded it was like another insult adding to it. Curiosity ranked high on the black list 'Traits a Lady should never show publicly', asking such a question apparently had been another big mistake.
"I'm sorry", she apologized. "But I was wondering, if you maybe had had word from... father? He hasn't written in about a month."

[Ruler Of Ion]

The manner loving Countess was slightly offended by Celvi’s reaction to her attempt of being kind towards her, revoked her attempt at praise and to add salt to the wound began to falsely speak of highly enjoying her duties and required need to be of help in planning the Princess’s party. Three strikes against her niece and that honestly was not a thing to be proud of. Now irritable, Dagmara was washing away any thought of trying to be kind to Celvi. If she wanted to be treated like a ill-mannered child, so be it.

Shifting her gaze from an overview of the youth standing before her, she focused in on the slight details. Composure was taking over the frame of her niece and that gave Dagmara slight satisfaction in the knowledge Celvi was trying to mask her emotions like any prized Noblewoman would do. Showing of emotion in a public place was a frowned upon act the Dagmara enforced heavily.

A satisfactory nod was given to Celvi’s curtsy, followed by remarks of admitting to her mistake of sounding very ungrateful. That was a pleasant sight to see that one her lessons had stuck in the girl’s mind. ‘Admitting to one’s mistakes shows that you are aware of your actions and erases any suspicion of being spoiled or a liar. Liars are not a welcome being amongst high society, neither are spoiled children, they ruin our appearance of being a civilized class.’
Yet another surprise to Dagmara was given at the words of yet another remembered teaching of how a young lady should act. “Very true Celvi. It gives me great pride at least a few of my lessons you have cared to remember” the Countess replied, a very polite smile gracing her lips. Quick as the smile appeared it vanished into the common placed line of indifference.

“A letter from your father” Dagmara spoke softly, in fact she did have one for Celvi that a particular dark haired, lofty behaved boy had delivered that morning. She paused slightly, debating internally whether to give the letter to her or post pone for another day. Deciding the latter, she reached into her sleeve and produced a letter sealed with crisp red wax sporting the Gray family crest imprinted, confirming in fact it was a letter from Dagmara’s brother. “In fact, I do.” She informed, holding out the letter for Celvi to grasp.

Dagmara had been curious of what lay in Celvi’s letter, for in her own letter from Gordon had answered her inquiry of in approving a marriage proposal for his daughter. He had written of insisting he have more time on deciding whether or not to approve a husband hunt just yet. He would decide soon, but not in this letter.

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi sighed inwardly with relief. Runnori help her she had swung the conversation just in time, before it could turn into a complete desaster! However, there was surely a price to pay. Acting like this felt like betraying herself, for deep down inside, in a part of her soul she had to mask almost every second she was awake, there was a Celvi that craved to speak her mind for once. To admit how horribly encaged she felt, best crying a bit on someone's shoulder to ease the omnipresent tension. But since the day her father had left, such feelings had to be kept hidden carefully. And of course, just as she thought she had found another fellow soul, it had to be a mere messenger…

But who was she to be so ungrateful?
After all it was no little inequity to shift all the blame on one person, and Celvi hated herself for it, but sometimes she wondered what would have been if her mother was still alive and if she was responsible for her upbringing, not her aunt.
All these thoughts,however, were hidden behind the so well-practised mask of indifference, while she heard her aunt's little praise laced with the omnipresent critisism.
Deciding every additional word would be out of place, she just bowed her head slightly, indicating she was trying to remember them all.

Celvi's heart leapt with joy, hearing Dagmara indeed had received a letter from Gordon Gray, fighting as a sergeant in the neverending war. Her eyes started to glister in anticipation, eager to know what her father had to say, and they even lit with a blazing fire as Dagmara now reached into her sleeve, holding it just a bit beyond her grasp. A quick thought flashed through her mind, whether it had been Chase delivering the letter, and if he knew what a treasure he was carrying, how much he treated her to this message.

But this thought vanished quickly, for once Chase couldn't demand all of her attemtion, now her father mattered most. Impulsively her hand twitched towards the sealed pergament, but at the last moment possible, she retracted and instead asked politely: "May I please, aunt Dagmara?"

[Ruler Of Ion]

In her own letter to Gordon, she had not only asked whether or not Celvi was of the marriageable age, but also asked for his opinion on a suitable match for her niece. Dagmara had instated it was time Celvi was to marry. Call The countess old fashioned, but she thought it best to marry young and start a family before disaster could strike like it had on her own marriage.

In her letter, she had given a list of possible suitors with the pros and cons of each of the bachelors she found eligible for Celvi and that would guarantee a great, carefree life.
Jaden Berlet was a boy with his head on his shoulders. He was literate, mannered and wealthy. Unlike his younger brother was vas disgustingly vain and spoiled rotten. Though he was considerably older than Celvi, twelve years her senior, it wouldn’t matter for no way in the Goddess’s name would she arrange a marriage between his younger brother and Celvi. Jaden would make a suitable match, if his father would agree to the arrangement.
She had even brought up the possibility of convincing the Grand Duke that Celvi would make a wife of his likings. But the problem of getting the Grand Duke to settle down from his wild womanizer ways. And also the problem of whether or not he would accept the proposal of marrying someone of a lesser nobility rank than himself.f

“You may, Celvi” Dagmara answered with a pleased and very mild smile. Celvi had genuinely just redeemed herself from any scolding on manners her aunt had held in store for her. She held out her hand, a few more inches, encouraging her niece to grasp the parchment. She stood patiently, at ease and not stiff in posture yet she still had a large amount of grace about her. She showed none of her curiosity, but simply let her gaze study the many centuries of writings about her. Each worn set of pages, spoke of how dignified and educated Lamora was, even in its birth as a country, someone had always been writing the history down.

[Celvi Gray]

With a little smile that hid most of the happiness and excitement inside her, Celvi reached for the letter. Her instincts had saved her from dropping another huge brick, and this was her prize. Slowly and almost devoutly she broke the red seal with the image carved into her father's signet ring on it. The image was cut deep into the wax, with an energetic movement, as it seemed. Just like her father always was. He was a man of deeds, not of many words, and that was why the rare letters she got from him were treasured by her like the crown jewels.

Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the parchment and was greeted by lines over lines of his neat and equally energetical handwriting. Her lips moved while she was reading, mouthing the words.

"My dear little Fay, my heart's delight!

The last few weeks have been arduous and exhausting, filled with long days of endless sallies and retreats, so forgive me if I just now find the time to write you these far too little lines.
Success is coming slowly and our losses are far from light, but Runnori be praised until now I have not suffered from more than a few scratches.
You should see all these young men fighting for their land, before they have even time to start a family. One is particularly excelling, the young Grand Duke Redwood, who is serving his time with his regiment of mounted archers for a few weeks. He's brave and courageous, making him a model for all men his age!

How are things at the palace? In your last letter you wrote to me that Princess Christabel took you and a few others out to the Ryum River for hawking. I can imagine my little Fay sitting on the good Artano, her hair flying after her and her lovely eyes sparkling with joy. You are not made for staying behind walls all day. You need a bit of colour on your cheeks once in a while. So I hope the Princess will repeat those hunts many times.

About the favour you asked me, I gladly oblige, and I will ask around and keep my eyes and ears open to anything concerning this matter.

By the way, it may be I'm allowed to come home in two month's time for a short relief. Wouldn't that be great? I haven't seen my little girl for years, and I can only imagine what a beautiful woman you must have become!

Alarm is sounding, I'm sorry to leave it like that, I will send this letter with the next messenger that passes my way, feel embraced by your loving

Dad"

Celvi smiled and lowered the parchment. "He says he might get furlough soon. How wonderful that would be! Do you want to read it?"
She had a suspicion Aunt Dagmara would find a way of reading it anyway, so there was no use hiding things.

[Ruler Of Ion]

Dagmara watched her niece’s facial expression as she read the letter from Gordon. Her expression gave way to her excitement over the writing. Dagmar shifted slightly, in mind to scold Celvi for displaying so much emotion in a public place but decided against it with a thought of, ‘I’ll let the girl enjoy her father’s letter in peace.’ She watched Celvi’s lips move with each word written on the parchment, silently narrating. Dagmara, sighed ever so softly as her niece looked up excitedly and announced her father would be coming home for a short time.

Ah glorious day! Gordon, her dear brother had been away so long! She silently rejoiced, her face showing nothing of her own excitement as she nodded gratefully. “Wonderful, simply wonderful’ Dagmara stated softly, now wondering why in her own letter Gordon hadn’t told her. Had he lost the compassion towards his sitter to forget to say he was coming home? ‘More than likely not’ she thought, ‘he must have been in a terrible hurry to write both letters.’
When Gordon was to arrive, she would pester him until he gave a straight forward answer on marrying off Celvi. He would not be leaving without giving her a reply even if that meant for him to be late for a battle. And don’t think she is exaggerating at that, she will and would do it if necessary.

“No, you letter is for you eyes only” the Countess replied genuinely, meaning it in all. She would not read that letter, for she felt the it was sentimental value to Celvi, was greater on this letter than any other. And she wasn’t about to ruin that small bit for her niece. She smiled softly, “I guess we have a lot to celebrate now don’t we? The Princess’s birthday and the homecoming of your father.”

[Celvi Gray]

Once again Dagmara was more composed than Celvi herself, and the girl noticed it with slight unease. One could almost think her aunt was indifferent about her brother's long due return, but Celvi knew she wasn't. It was hard to read in her deadpan face, but over the years Celvi had at least learned a few things, so she could tell Dagmara was pleased.

Her facial muscles ached from the effort of forcing a blithe and almost blissfull smile off her face, but she wanted to prove her aunt she was adaptive and anxious to appear a true Lady. Inside the joy swelled like a gigantic water blister captured in ice. Her father was alive and unscathed! Just now she realized how the tension and fear had weighed on her shoulders like a whole mountain. With all the anxiousness washing away, she felt so unbelievably happy.
And what was even better, he would come home soon. What were two months compared to years? They would pass in no time and then…

Celvi had to admit, her aunt's reply of keeping the letter to herself did not little surprise her. With a pang of guilt she realized, how mean it was to assume your aunt was pilfering your private letters to read them. Why did she always think so badly of her? Yes, she was crazy with manners, customs and traditions and would give her a severe dressing down in the blinking of an eye, but on the other hand, she was the most honest and respectable person Celvi knew. And she was still her aunt! Silently Celvi apologized to her and swore to herself she would civilize her thoughts from now on.

She gave a nod and a modest smile to Dagmara's last remark. "We really do. But both need to be prepared beforehand. If only those two occasions would fall on one day, that would be a day to remember for sure, glorious!"
Realising her excitement once again got the better of her, she gave a little cough and busied herself reaching for a shelf to finally put back the volume she had been caught reading.
"Did father write you a letter, too?" she asked, trying hard not to sound all too nosy, as if the answer didn't matter to her at all and this was just another topic to keep the conversation going.