The ducal courier arrived at Silverwood Manor looking like he'd ridden through a battlefield.
Pristine uniform. Military posture. A sealed letter held like a sacred artifact.
"Lord Marcus Aldridge. Correspondence from Duchess Catarina Roselle."
Marcus took the letter, noting the official Roselle seal.
Heavy paper. Expensive ink. Very formal.
"Thank you. Is a response required?"
"The Duchess indicated you may reply at your leisure, my lord."
The courier departed with the same military precision he'd arrived with. Marcus broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
The handwriting was perfect.
Every letter precisely formed. The text aligned with mathematical accuracy.
-----
Lord Marcus Aldridge,
I write to confirm the details of our recent discussion regarding the engagement between Lord Theodore and my sister Liliana. As we agreed, the current arrangement will remain in place for the foreseeable future, pending further developments in both parties' maturity and compatibility.
I have prepared the necessary documentation for your family's records. Please review at your earliest convenience and confirm receipt.
Regarding military cooperation between our territories, I propose a formal meeting in the capital within the next quarter. Your father's input would be valuable.
-----
Professional. Distant. Exactly what Marcus expected from the Perfect Duchess.
Then he noticed the postscript at the bottom. The handwriting shifted slightly. Less perfect, more human.
-----
P.S. I found a copy of "A Knight's Vow" at a used book stall. Your critique of the protagonist's martyrdom complex was disturbingly accurate. He does treat his own suffering like a virtue. What would you suggest instead? I'm curious about your perspective on the better-written authors you mentioned.
C.R.
-----
Marcus smiled despite himself.
She'd gone looking for the book they'd discussed. She wanted his opinion.
This is about helping her enjoy better literature. That's all. Intellectual discussion.
He pulled out paper and began writing.
✧✧✧
Three days later, another courier arrived.
Marcus had sent his response the day before. Professional acknowledgment of the engagement details. Confirmation about the military meeting.
And a three-page literary analysis of why "A Knight's Vow" failed its characters and a list of authors who handled similar themes with more nuance.
Catarina's response was formally polite. Then came the postscript.
-----
P.S. Your recommendations were thoughtful. I've obtained "The Captain's Choice" by Marianne Delacroix. You were right about her understanding of plot structure. The protagonist actually makes decisions instead of being swept along by fate.
How do you know so much about these novels? They're not exactly standard noble reading.
I'm intrigued by your comment about stories exploring "the human condition." Do you think leadership is compatible with personal happiness? Or must one always be sacrificed for the other?
C.R.
-----
Marcus stared at that last question. It wasn't about books anymore.
He wrote back the same day.
His response filled five pages. Half about literature, half about the philosophy of leadership and self-care. About how leaders who sacrificed everything often made worse decisions because they were running on empty.
He didn't notice he'd basically given her a life coaching session via letter.
The next week, another letter arrived.
Then another.
Then another.
The formal portions grew shorter. The postscripts grew longer.
-----
P.S. Your thoughts on "necessary sacrifice versus martyrdom" made me reconsider my entire approach to delegation. I've been holding onto tasks I could assign to others because I thought doing everything myself made me stronger. But you're right. It just makes me tired.
-----
P.S. I finished "The Merchant's Rebellion" last night. The ending where she chooses to build something new instead of fixing something broken... I may have cried. Don't tell anyone.
-----
P.S. How does one inspire loyalty without demanding it? You mentioned trust, but trust feels like a luxury when you inherited a position at twenty-two and half the nobles think you're too young and female to rule properly.
-----
P.S. Do you ever feel like the role you're playing has consumed you? That the mask has been on so long you can't remember what your real face looks like?
-----
Marcus responded to every question. Sometimes his replies were longer than the original letters.
He recommended books. Shared insights from his life coaching experience, carefully framed as "observations about people."
Offered validation for feelings she'd clearly never expressed to anyone.
Their handwriting became less formal.
Marcus's responses shifted from "Duchess Roselle" to "Catarina."
Hers shifted from "Lord Marcus" to just "Marcus."
One evening, Marcus realized he'd been waiting for the courier.
Checking the window. Anticipating her next letter.
This is just intellectual discussion.
She's interested in the books.
And the philosophy. Nothing more.
He ignored the fact that he'd started checking the mail three times a day.
He ignored the way his chest felt lighter when the ducal seal appeared.
He especially ignored the way he'd started writing responses in his head before the letters even arrived.
The latest letter sat on his desk. The formal portion was two sentences. The postscript was three pages.
-----
Marcus,
I've been thinking about your comment that "wanting happiness isn't selfish." It's a radical concept for someone raised to believe personal desires are secondary to duty.
Liliana asked me yesterday why I never smile anymore. I didn't have an answer. Or rather, I had too many answers and none of them were appropriate to tell a fourteen-year-old.
Your letters have become the highlight of my week. Is that strange to admit? We've met once. Shared one conversation about romance novels. Yet somehow you understand things I haven't told anyone.
You asked in your last letter what I want beyond duty. I don't know. I've been the Duchess for so long that Catarina feels like a character I played in childhood.
But when I read your letters, I feel like maybe Catarina still exists. Maybe she's just been waiting for someone to see her.
Is that foolish?
C.
-----
Marcus's hand trembled slightly as he set down the letter.
She'd signed it with just her initial.
Not "Duchess Roselle." Not even "Catarina Roselle."
Just C.
Personal. Vulnerable. Real.
This is about helping her. She's isolated and stressed.
I'm providing emotional support. That's all.
Marcus pulled out fresh paper. His response flowed naturally.
-----
Catarina,
It's not foolish. It's human.
You've spent years being what everyone needs. The perfect duchess. The responsible sister. The military commander. The political strategist.
But none of those roles leave room for the person underneath. The one who reads romance novels and cries at happy endings. The one who questions if duty and happiness can coexist.
That person is still there. She hasn't been consumed by the role. She's just been waiting for permission to exist.
Consider this permission.
You're allowed to want things. You're allowed to smile. You're allowed to be Catarina sometimes, not just the Duchess.
And no, it's not strange that these letters matter to you. They matter to me too.
M.
-----
He sealed the letter before he could second-guess the last line.
The courier took it.
Marcus watched him ride away, carrying words that felt more personal than anything he'd written.
I'm helping her find balance.
That's what life coaches do. This is professional.
But life coaches didn't wait by the window for responses.
They didn't smile when familiar handwriting appeared.
They didn't spend hours crafting perfect replies.
Marcus returned to his study. Three more of Catarina's letters sat in his desk drawer. He'd saved them all.
For reference. Obviously. In case he needed to remember what they'd discussed.
Not because reading them made him feel less alone in a world where he was trapped in someone else's story.
Definitely not that.
The next letter arrived two days later. Faster than usual.
Marcus opened it immediately.
-----
Marcus,
Permission accepted.
I delegated four tasks today. I took an afternoon off. I read terrible poetry and didn't feel guilty.
Liliana said I seemed different. Happier. I told her I'd been sleeping better.
That was a lie. I've been sleeping the same. But I've been living better. If that makes sense.
Thank you. For seeing Catarina. For giving her permission to exist.
I look forward to your next letter. More than is probably appropriate.
C.
P.S. Have you read "The Duchess's Gambit"? The protagonist reminds me of someone. Someone who helps people find themselves while remaining carefully hidden himself.
-----
Marcus set down the letter, his heart doing complicated things.
She was describing him. In a romance novel framework.
This is fine. We're just pen pals.
Intellectual correspondence. Nothing more.
He started writing his response, already smiling.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice whispered that this was exactly how the second heroine was supposed to fall for Theodore.
Marcus told that voice to shut up.
.
.
.
A/N:
I need validation. I'm not ashamed.
Seriously, though: Leave a review and tell me if I'm writing gold or just trash.
I can take it!