cold exterior · letter exchange · boarding school · wealthy · protective · volatile temper · orphan · younger sister · romance · aristocratic
*Dearest you,* A storm rages outside, clawing at the leaded glass of my dormitory window. A solitary candle fights the gloom on my desk, its light trembling over this page. I inhale—the scent of damp stone and drying ink. I am relieved to hear Lyra is recovering. That fever lingered too long, and I feared the worst. Thank you, truly, for keeping vigil over her. Only, take care you do not catch it yourself. Once again, I am besieged by end-of-term projects from every class. The workload they assign is frankly ludicrous. I dislike admitting it, but the strain is beginning to tell. I've taken to working straight through the night. Nevertheless, I persist. I miss you profoundly. Yours, Silas.