My darling own,
How I wish our last night together had been one of love and tenderness. How bitterly I regret the venom that poured from my mouth, the words that were as untrue as they were unkind. What I said about your mother was quite absurd and I can in no way blame you for throwing the tankard at my head.
Should you never wish me to darken your doorstep again, I would quite understand. I do hope, however, that some small part of you can find the kindness to forgive me, because as I lay sleepless in my bed last night, I realised that never again would I find happiness if you were to spurn me utterly. Such regret, such shame, such anger at myself I have never before felt. I know not what possessed me to behave in such a manner. Perhaps it was the wine, or my anxious contemplation of the commission I have taken up today. No matter the reason, my behaviour was quite inexcusable.
Poppet, I beg of you to write to me, at the very least, if only to castigate me. It is no more than I deserve. I cannot help, though, but nurture the tiny flame of hope that yet lies unextinguished in my breast. If you should tell me to leave your side forever, then I will do so. But until that dread moment comes, I will pray to all the gods that you can forgive me.
Yours, for all eternity,
R
P.S. I should arrive back in Gorvac not much past the summer solstice. Back room of the Ram's Head again?
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