Laurent letter from Montaigne to Carleon

My dearest Master Valliere,

I write you this letter in hopes that it finds you well and safe. Be assured that you are always on the forefront of my mind, as are your traveling companions and friends. It is with a heavy heart that I send you this missive of (mostly) ill tidings.

My dearest Mattie and I have been cast out from your estate. Your esteemed sister-in-law, the Lady Annabelle de Fountainbleu d'Lorraine, as she now styles herself, has decided that my family, with its many years of trusted service to your estate, was no longer of any service to her. You will notice that the Lady has somewhat smugly added her father's name to her "title", thereby dishonoring your brother's memory. She has even gone so far as to begin answering to the title "Comptess du Fountainbleu d'Lorraine" when her companions at Court "accidentally" refer to her as such, so I have heard.

Mattie and I are in no means destitute due to the generous arrangements you have made for me and mine (which I do not doubt you made in case such an unfortunate incident occurred) but Charouse is an expensive city and our savings will not last to the end of my dear Mattie's days. I am distressed that I can not leave her in a better state of affairs. I find it quite distressing that we must count on the generous accommodations provided us (albeit rather grudgingly), by Rolland Pichot, a second cousin of my dear wife's. Though he pretends to care about our misfortune, I can tell that he would rather not have to extend his hand to us who are out of favor, even if we are family.

In truth, dear Master, I write you to ask your help. I know that I am a servant, a member of the lower class, and it is uncouth to ask such a boon of you after all your family has done for mine, but I cannot see any other alternative. I am very ill and I now begin to fear that I will leave Mattie, not only widowed, but homeless and eventually destitute. This I fear more than death itself. I hate to ask, but I now need my son, Jacque, to come home and help support his mother and I. I know that this is a terrible imposition, but I cannot think of what else to do.

And now back to more important matters. Certain agents of Le Vicompte Du Alexandre have spotted your brother's manservant, Grendel, here in Charouse! The worthy du Alexandre gave me word of this just this morning through another of his many agents. He was spotted in a tavern but when he was cautiously approached he denied that his name was Grendel and hurried out the door, eventually to be lost on the crowded streets of Charouse. I believe that his was too forward of the agents and that they should, instead, have quietly followed him to his abode and questioned him there, if at all. But the good news is that it can be fairly certain that it is he! And this sign from Theus comes not a moment too soon.

Lady Annabelle's father, the esteemed and much respected Duc d'Lorraine is ill and rumored to be on his deathbed. Christianna has gone home to tend to her father and sent word to her sister that he is convinced of his immanent demise. If in fact he does die then Lady Annabelle will also be the de facto ruler of his estate and will most likely be granted the title of Duchess d'Lorraine. This will add considerably to her already growing influence with the Court and indeed, though I wish I could report better news, with Le Emperor himself. He showed her much favor on his last visit to the Baths. A servant of your friend Rupert, the Seneschal of the Baths, reported to my wife that Le Emperor showed her much favor indeed, but this can be simple uncouth servant gossip. It is well known, however, that the Emperor favors her and that she does "have his ear". Quite an accomplishment, I would say, for one such as she.

Christianna has been a ghost of herself ever since your brother's death and your fall from favor. She has grown pale and rarely smiles. I do not know what further effect her father's illness has had on her well being but I know that the situation cannot be good for her mental state. She seems to has lost the lust for life that she demonstrated when you were together. Forgive me for being so forward but I guessed that you would want to know how she faired.

In light of what I have revealed to you, you may find that your best course of action is to come back to Montaigne yourself. If you do indeed, decide to return rest assured that (as always) me and mine are at your complete disposal (if indeed you find you need the help of an old, sick servant… ). Give my love and devotion to my friends, your worthy traveling companions. I tire now and must rest. I have to remain strong seeming for my dear Mattie's sake. Never having been without gainful employment until now, she is almost at her wits end.

May Theus protect you and bring you all home safely.

Your faithful Servant,
Laurent du Gilles (du Fountainbleu)

Written on this day; the *th of *, in the year of our Prophets, 1668.