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Dear Meghan, I hope you will be understanding in this matter that I chose to address my concerns by correspondence instead of speaking with you in person. The last several weeks have been increasingly difficult for me, and I fear that, standing in front of you, I could not say everything I need to say. Not that I am unsympathetic to the pain and confusion you, too, must be feeling, only that I am too sympathetic. I am afraid, I am so afraid, of what I might see when I look at you, how you must feel about me, about what I did and tried. I am told, repeatedly, that I will be totally exonerated in this circumstance, as my actions were beyond my control, and that no one will blame me for those things I did or said while under Charoli's psionic influence. I wish I believed that. Mistress Tyl and I have gone over my memories very carefully and we believe, or pretend like we believe, that I haven't actually hurt anyone, beyond perhaps punching Elesia. Given my own bruised and battered condition, she believes that such things are normal for whores, even upper-class, expensive ones. Still, I plan to make a visit, to see if any amends are necessary or requested. Despite what must have been a great deal of expense, I still have some monies remaining. If only making amends to you were as simple as handing you some coins. But I fear that it is not. I know that it is not. As close as we can determine, most, but not all, of these suggestions that Charoli implanted, seem to have been done so at the Mayor's birthday party. If I thought it would help, I'd say for you to ignore or disregard anything I might have said or done in that time. However, it is difficult to say where her suggestions left off and my own desires began. I know that, for quite a while, ever since you were kidnapped, I have felt a strong desire to protect and defend you. I have wondered and daydreamed of what a relationship with you would be like. With Gloss's and my arguments about our relationship, her distracting research, and her sometimes overly critical manner about my decisions, I saw you as being more gentle, more understanding. Rather than deal with the fact that I might very well be making bad decisions, I turned to dreaming about you, thinking about you. You, who seemed to know me as well as I knew myself. I started watching you, stealing glimpses of you during our classes, and watching you when we were studying. On a few occasions, I even came into your room at night to watch you sleeping. I do believe, that had there been no Glossaria in my world, I would have been very deliriously happy to be in love with you. But, here she is, and much as I would cut off my arm before giving you any pain, I cannot... I do not wish... to be without her. Even when she makes me so angry I can hardly see, she is as dear to me as my own life and I love every hair on her head, every little freckle on her nose. I beg that you will forgive me for any pain that I have inadvertently caused you. I would do anything to take it back, especially how I must have hurt you last evening. While I know the early trust and easy friendship we had before can never be again, I hope you will be able to forgive me, and not turn away completely. I only hope, some day, that I can be worthy of your friendship, that I can deserve the love of Glossaria, and that, perhaps, I might even find something redeemable in myself. In all ways, your friend and servant, Vallel |
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