My dad is letting me use is PDA to type on. He has attached a little keyboard to it, and now I can write any where, and i am able to transfer it back to the computer. So you can expect my quickness in writting to keep on going…
Henry was hundreds of miles away from home, but that is where all his thoughts were. He regularly received letters from there, but none told him what he wanted to know. Many thoughts had been filling his head since he had left there. He was often curious as to how things were progressing between Danielle and Charles, but there was another thought that troubled him even more. Who exactly was his sister?
In England, he had run across some of his mother’s relatives in the market. They were staying at one of their estates that was located in the area. Henry was obliged to spend a few evenings in their company. One night, they took him on a tour of the estate, and he was taken down a hall that was overflowing with pictures. He did his best to examine them, but found no trace of his sister in any of them.
He felt as if he was reading a mystery. The only difference was that he had yet to find a piece of the puzzle. He just found himself in endless dead ends. Finally, he grew sick of the constant searching, and decided to write to his mother. She had always been a good observer, and maybe there was something that he had overlooked.
I will save you the small talk that is normally proper way to start a letter. Instead, I have a question to ask you. For a great while now, I have been bothered by it. In me, I can easily see family resemblance. I have father’s cheeks, and your nose. Danielle, however, seems to share nothing with either of you.
At home, I examined our picture of our family, and have seen nothing. I always just dismissed it and said that she looked like your side of the family. No longer can I believe that. Here in England, I ran into a few cousins of yours. They had an extensive collection of family pictures. After examining them, I no longer know what to think.
I guess part of me is suggesting that Danielle is not really my sister. I know that I must seem insane to you. I am sure you are waiting for me to tell you that this is just some kind of joke, but I promise you that I am quite serious. A simple reply will do, but I need you to tell me the truth.
Your ever loving son,
When Marie received this letter, she was a little shocked, but part of her expected it. She knew that both of her children were intelligent, and to be quite truthful she was surprised it took one of them this long to start to figure things out.
At first, she thought she should consult with Francis, he, undoubtedly, had a plan in case something like this happened. She was close to bringing it up with him a few times, but could not bring herself to do it. Her mind kept on telling her that he would act without consulting her, so why should she not do the same thing. She detained her answer for a week and a half when she finally made herself write back.
I have long thought that one of my children would figure out the family secret before we announced the truth to the world. Your father would probably disapprove of what I am about to do, but he has angered me enough times that I no longer care. The truth would have come out on Danielle’s seventeenth birthday, which is now only six months away.
On the night of Danielle’s birth, your sister was also born. She passed away that night. Your father was devastated, and he hid the truth from me in order to help me recover. Later that evening, he found Danielle in a basket and a note from a father pleading that whoever should find his child should care of her. The only thing the man asked was that we raised her as our own and that on her seventeenth she be told the truth.
For five years, your father hid the truth from me. When he did tell me, I was greatly angered. Things were never the same between us again. All his life he has tried to raise Danielle to be exactly what a young lady should be so that when the truth came out she would still be held with respect in the eyes of the nobles.
You now know the truth. Danielle is not your sister. All I ask is that you do not tell another soul. Danielle shall know soon enough. Just let her enjoy what little time she has left living in blindness. I am sure that you will understand, and do as I wish.
Henry folded the letter, and tossed it into the fire in his room. He only read it once, and yet he knew ever line of it. For a long time, he had had a feeling that Danielle was not related to him, but now he did not know what to do. The truth shocked him.
He just let himself sink into a chair and look out the window at passer goers on the street. He sat in reflection. He had been gone from home for four months now. He had told Danielle in his first letter to her that he should be gone no more than three months. Being away from Danielle had made him realize how much she meant to him, and that thought scared him. So, he stayed away longer.
He had tried to fall in love with some English ladies, but it had failed miserably. It was now he realized why. No one could make themselves fall in love with someone; it was just something that happened naturally, something that had already happened for him.
Before now, he would not admit it to himself. He could not be in love with his sister because it just was not the way that things worked. Now, though he felt he could safely love her because she was not his sister at all. The thought sent chills up and down his spine. He wanted to write Danielle right away to tell her how he felt. He grabbed a piece of paper and was preparing it when he realized that he couldn’t. Danielle did not know the truth and would not know the truth for awhile.
That thought depressed him, but he would not let it ruin his excitement. His eye then fell on another letter that had came in the mail. He opened it up. It was from Charles and was dated some two months ago. The letter must have been lost in the mail.
I am not one who tends to write, but I could not resist writing to you. I am in such a joyful mood. Since your departure, I have continued to visit your sister. We have been getting on perfectly. You have long known of my affection for her, but till now I doubted that she felt the same for me. With each passing day, I grow more confident. Soon, I plan to ask her to be mine. I have no doubt of what her answer will be…
The letter continued on in such a way, and Henry wanted to throw it into the fire with each line he read. When he did finish reading it, that was the very thing he did. The letter had filled him with such rage that he had to take a stroll in order to clear his mind.
On the walk, he ran into an old friend of his whom had just came from France. “Your Highness, I have just heard the most joyful news. The Marquis de Limoges is engaged. Is that not joyful news?”
Henry did not answer. He just kept on walking. This was the very last thing he wanted to hear right now. He went back to the inn. He informed his guards that they would be leaving with in the hour. He hoped to be back home in three days. It was normally a five-day journey, but he would not sleep until he was home.
He was able to accomplish this feat. When he arrived home, it was late in the evening, and he did not want to bother anyone. He decided to sneak in through the same secret way that Auguste had came through when he dropped off his child. On the other side of the garden, he saw two figures talking. His eyes watched them. He then watched as they kissed. Just at that moment the moon came out from behind a cloud and revealed the man to be Charles.