Sigstaeinn

It is early as I write these words, I have just carried my flower home. As I saw her sleeping the morning prior I crept out of the house with a heaviness in my heart. I still could not think. Yet as the day wore on I grew lighter of spirit, the walk clearing my head as I suspected it might. And the further I got from home. Through the woods. The more I wished I had remained in bed at her side. The intensity of feeling building up within me and I dared to smile at the thought of just being around her.

Oft ic sceolde ana                  Often (or always) I had alone
uhtna gehwylce                      to speak of my trouble
mine ceare cwiþan.                each morning before dawn.
Nis nu cwicra nan                  There is none now living
þe ic him modsefan                to whom I dare

The few manor houses in Bree-land are all of a similar design, Therefore as I look around the vast hall I would have acquired for myself on the hill I am at once reminded of the smouldering ruin I made of my parent's mansion home. Nonetheless, this is the one place I can come now and be alone. I wouldn't normally have brought anyone here under any other circumstances but just across the village in my humbler abode by the river Kríea sleeps. I have enlisted the aid of Leecher Cartwell who attends to her on a daily basis.