My dear Anna-Marie, I have been quite indecisive on what to do about your wedding gift. If you were any other girl, I would have bought a fine dress. I myself am quite fond of lace and intricate embroidery, but knowing you my dear, you would most likely take the gift of a dress as an insult. My second thought was to cater to your love of flowers, only to learn that Simon has already gathered an exquisite array of orchids and other such exotic blooms that would shame any botanical gift I could ever hope to secure. As for your interest in arms, I do not even need to ask to know Markul has already claimed that area of gifts.
I heavily considered giving you the cabinet with the secret panel, where you have so perfectly constructed a home for any fea who happen to wander into our house, but as selfish as this my sound, I could not bear to part with it for that very reason.
I have finally decided on the simple gift of an account of how you became my daughter, and how you and your siblings have healed a broken old soldier, and hopefully, how a broken old soldier helped heal you.
Notes:
This story has been around for a long time. It's my only serious project written in first person prospective, and probably the last one too.
It's the memoirs of an old general, written as a wedding gift to his adopted daughter. I have so many ideas for the stories he'll tell, Anna was an interesting little thing growing up.
UGH I love this. Pleaseeease finish it!!!
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