WILLOCK 72

"Of all realistic sayings, I found this incompetent and unlike my experience. The older, the wiser—I expected the Baron would give me the hardest of speeches and make me submit to his obligations. He bared no threat to me. One uncommon English word, and he was in his thoughts, stating 'a very good idea, boy.' Uncommon English word—I barely even knew if such words really existed in the long, old Oxford dictionary. It was much the biggest win I ever had. I was all nerves, but he made me more confident in my statements. However, I wish not to disregard the statement. Maybe he was inclined to make an alliance with me to protect his own likes and wants. However, this just caught me in the most off-guard of ways any man would ever find themselves. I expected a nerve-cracking being that would suck my knowledge and brain in check of ideas until I am left scratching whatever else I have left till I state, 'whatever you shall say, I will follow.' All in all, the talk was fruitful. The Baron of the western side had accepted to return the pieces that the King controlled. All I was left with was the Baron's in the far southeast and west respectively. They were nut heads, humans who were led by their stomachs and made sure their wants were larger than what their citizens and people gained. All they did was suck a little more, a little more, and a little more, until everyone was left at their mercies. They had no respect even for the old. Not to add, they cared no less about women and children. Any woman of appeal to them would become another mistress in place, left and dumped right after usage. It was the worst experience any being would ever have. They had children all over—children, a son with a big nose, a child with an unlined hairline, deep-shafted almost to baldness, a child with cunning and skimming characters. They had children who resembled their behaviors. I was in no liking for them, and no one dared question them. Who would question a Baron with all the powers to do anything? They were much of the reason we bastards had been forgiven for quite some generations, because they knew, they knew... Despite having and being clumsy by spilling their seeds all over, they knew that they had left various women in desperation. Some died during birth; others died as they searched for shelter for their children. Despite the actions, society was the most cruel to women who bore children outside the marital beds. Of course, I knew. I was a victim... Who would not know all this better than I? So, I mean, they knew, these Barons; hence, they were conservative of their own, making them leaders of others in farm fields. They were Barons with no likings. They were never loved. Maybe they thought they did be loved, as every voting section, men would grunt their name, as they prepared to fight any other Baron who wished to take over a part of their land. Fights of these men were always heard, not like England where everything was steady. I understand why His Majesty had retreated and left the lands... I sure believe that he wished I would take Scotland. The heart of his roots, where his forefathers and the late Kings have always been set for burial, Scottish nation the luckiest of lands. I did not know how damaged Wales was, but surely it was damaged... Ezron made me realize, it was not the best of choices, but my descendants will have to embrace the area. I sure had little to no idea how to compensate for all those mothers whose innocence and pride were taken away in the face of power... It was the cries they hailed to the King, to no avail... I shall do it, was all I would say. It was already beautiful by the rest of the Barons. The western one stated he would speak to the rest, except the two... I also had rights to suspend them, if the other Barons cooperated, but that would be the harshest way. But if need be, they needed to face that. However, that would be a blow for their next descendants. It would be the worst degrade, the worst a royalty would ever face.

"A letter from the Princess," the guard stated, and I was also shocked..., making all my thoughts of what had happened erase at once. I had finished my shipments and all businesses in the Lake of Tigris, and I was now in Bavdon. I had just arrived; I was in my room to be precise. It was almost seven at night, nearing eight o'clock according to the wall clock, and I tensed up as I took the letter, the guard having left. I did not ask any more questions about how the princess gave the letter, who gave it to him, or what and whatnot. I was just in shock; my heart was beating so hard, and the air smelled of anxiety and fear. It was like the letter was burning my hands as my mind pondered the words, 'it is from the princess, it is from the princess.' I imagined if this was how she felt as she opened my letters to her. Thank God, I had set the idea into action. My eyes were already watery; I was happy. The letter was well enveloped in a white, well-designed envelope, written with the thickest of ink pens and the nicest of pen color, 'Willock'. I felt loved for the first time as I breathed in and out anxiously, letting my hands open the little piece, making sure I did not tear it. It was a very strong piece, only found in the King's place. The letter was well folded, and inside was a little pen, an ink pen. If you are a man who ever faced the challenges I did, you would understand whatever emotions I felt within me. Love feels so good. I was delicate; I felt vulnerable and delicate. Like if she left today, I would be on the edge of losing it if not have lost it. And I opened the letter slowly. Girls' handwriting was always beautiful, not like ours, which was sloppy, and some letters were barely even readable.

Thank you for the letters. 

Sister states you should write a poetic book, you sure charm my heart. 

Am happy you like wild flowers, they are well tended and cared for in our garden, I shall pluck one for you, although it is not in my characters. 

Your English, I like…, I wish to have more of these dialogues.

Well; Happy or sad dear Willock? 

 Your friend, Princess Diana. 

 I need to know you are in touch of the letter, 

 I place father's pen gift unto me in this letter, Write back using it, 

 Or bring it with you on our next meet. 

 I eager for the marriage.

Sometimes, when you read letters with very few sentences, you find yourself more anxious than any human ever been. I was anxious. 'Happy or sad,' it ended. And I was confused. I was happy; I was happy she was here with me. The sad parts were not things to matter to her; they were things every man needed to face at one time in their lives. The letter was beautiful.

I lay my head in rest as I faced the little moonlight through my window, playing with the little pen she had given me. And I thought of her; I thought of her; I thought of things about her... everything. Is she a talker, or is she not much of a talker? What is her favorite meal? I knew she was skilled in all aspects any woman was needed. She could do embroidery well, she could discern well-cooked food from spoiled with just one smell, she could speak to someone she loves with the most delicate of voices; she was competent. And above all, all princesses had a teacher who taught them everything, from pianos to books and English, writing, and reading... everything that any man could read. They just never really visited schools; it was more home-based.

I found no part of me in need of sleep. I held onto the pen as if, if I were to lose it, it would fall and break, or fly away... that's how delicate I felt. Love is one thing; I really did have lots of feelings. This letter made me have the best of feelings, that I forgot I had to visit the tailor to clear things up. So, I sent my brother; he liked women anyway; he could have her for all I cared. All my thoughts were carried with her. I just did not want this night to end... and I read the letter again carefully. I imagined the ink on her hands as she crafted the paper. I imagined how she thought. Maybe she bit her inner cheek as my sister did when she was writing something, or maybe she scratched her hair or rewrote it over and over again as she thought of what was right to write to me. This was the only night I felt my heart light and happy... this one letter. It meant much more than any Baron accepting my offer. It meant more than father hugging me and telling me "I am proud of you." It meant... it was from a woman... a woman whom I loved. It was from her.