Ariane,
Last night we spoke, it was imperfect and unclear.
Let me be clear because to be clear is to be true--
The changing of minds is unacceptable.
If my mind has been tuched by some one else, if it has been Swaint, and if this is truly unacceptable, you must recognize that I am simultaneaisley cam kom comp compremised and aware that I am compremised; this is a very fragile and fritening state and what it necessitates is both a friend and a Marshall. And in this I am asking you not to trust me but to trust those I would trust with my very insignificant life. You are among these.
I do not want violence or blood, but I also want things to be righted, and things are to be known. And if I do not have your help then surely I will ruin this too as I ruin so many other things
We speak of this only that what I ask will be done, that I may trust those I care for most to gather knowledge for me because I cannot be trusted to do it my own.
Else you are a bane to my Proctor’s teachings, where one must speak even if one fears to speak, where the voice of people is as loud as those who lead them. Else you are not a Marshall and care so less for your people and more for the comfort of your Governor despite his foulness and lies; else you are a Civil Constabol.
I have offered REASONIBLE inquests: Mister Catch and Noura to inquire the truth from Mna. Tolleson, that we may agree on a proper future course; you and I to approach Agnieszka, that she may see the fruits of MEDDLING and discover if she knew, that we may agree on a proper future course; Cherny, with proper protection, to inquire about Glenn Burnie’s truths or untruth.
And only when the facts are known will a future course be set.
They ought have your blessing. Else this thing may be done with blood, for with you this may remain reasonable, but without you? Things fall apart in my hands Ariane, you know this well.
Please.
Glour'eya
Another letter was attached beneath the first, written too in Gloria Wynsee's hand. A transcription. A favor for a friend, accompanied by a drawing of a fat, black, bat-winged tick labelled HRIMFAX.
I am sorry I would not tell Hrimfax such things he would kick me in the knees and in the belly and it would be earned. I am tired of no-one listening, they listen but they DO NOT CARE.
I try to listen very good but the Wormwoman took my fixing away and Glenn is busy Redrawing Maps of People and I am tired that such listening is more important than my sayings. I am sorry. And sorry. And sorry I made all your Silver spill out. And I am sorry for what I did to get This Box,
can you please take This Box from me, I am scared of it, I am a Knight but not a very good Guard and it Sings to me but I won't open it. I WON'T.