Her Father.

Dear Critic,

.

Our young men have become even cornier, purchasing flowers for another while exchanging smiles and kisses with another.

The poor lasses who fall for knights are the ones I fear for. Sir Conan Jones appear to be enjoying his youth quite exceptionally. 

I would not trust my heart with him if given the opportunity.

Our widow is with child!

How shocking for a lady we'd assume would become a nun now decides to birth for the lord.

Bless Critic Arley.

.

Yours inciting,

Muckraker.

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Noon.

Marketplace.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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