The Knight of Capetix-Ober
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| Knight of Capetix-Ober Artstation |
Clementine,
It has been exactly six months and 3 days since we last spoke and I am distraught. I fell when your letter was handed to me (and gave the dockwomen a good laugh!) Your absence is a cavity in my chest. Every day I wake to find my heart shoved to the side by a gripping, spectral hand. It is made to shrink under strain, inch by inch until it resembles a sherry tome kernel. My mood is lowered, wits dulled… oh what we would do if you sat beside me now…
I digress. No doubt you wish to hear of my progress. Slow… but improving. Our venture began apace (I expressed as much in an earlier letter, did you receive it?) but ran aground - or at least snagged the bluffs - at the start of the second month. I realize now the issue was not caused by the language barrier, but by the cultural barrier. The folk here are more than our match in arms and intellect, but even our scientific exchanges are marred by a sort… malaise? We talk past each other, and we do this at a frustratingly sluggish pace. The pieces do not fit. After months of next to no profit and expansion to just the very edge of the capital’s outskirts, I was ready to despair. It was then that my savior arrived.
He was a man - I found that odd (even though by now I have realized there are many men here.) I saw him lurking at the very edge of the docks. He had the face of a weasel - nose smashed, teeth too-long - and a shifting manner. The guards brought him to me after his fourth attempt to get past the perimeter (this was after he was denied entry at the gate on two consecutive occasions during the previous week). You may sense that I disliked - continue to dislike - the man. This is true!
You will be surprised to know that he was a broker of Capetix-Ober. To find that their reach extends even here, and that they have taken an interest in me! You know my mother to be alive and well - why would they not approach her, head of the family, instead? Perhaps they sensed my need. The broker offered me the balm for our venture’s frustrating misfortune, a Knight unlike any I have met. She is strong and obedient of course, but too she is - or was, before her misfortune - a native of this continent. Their culture is her culture. Their manner is her manner. With her help, we have arranged meetings with two of the Quiet Governors and have plans to contact the other nine. How refreshing it is to speak with these authorities not as an incompetent foreigner, but as a woman of means. Not as a princess, mind (the yolk of that privilege weighs far too heavy on me, you know this). To them, I am now a trade partner and business bringer - the little joys this status affords are just barely enough to sustain me in your absence.
Am I embarrassed to say that the success of this venture now rests on the shoulders of a stranger? Not at all. I believe myself now to be a pragmatist – this world is too fickle to turn away from a tow line, even if we cannot see its end. The Knight is the strong arm and sounding voice that we required; I am content to know this and little else. My one worry now is the matter of Capetix-Ober’s payment… yet this is only a minor concern. Soon we will be established here – the coin will flow.
That is all I have, my love. As I sit here penning the last of this letter, a ray of gold breaks over the Notyk Range. It is our bright future, rushing to meet us.
Always yours,
Melissa
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