Dear Diary,

Today I wrote back to Lineya.

I scarcely slept last night, for my thoughts would not be stilled. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw the hill beneath the autumn tree, the way the lake reflected the dying light, and her beside me as though she had never left. I pondered every word I might write, fearing that too much honesty would betray me, yet too little would wound her.

By morning, my head ached and my hands trembled, but at last I pieced together a reply that spoke truth without saying too much. I sealed it quickly, lest I lose my nerve.

It read thus:

My dear Lineya,

You owe me no forgiveness, for I understand more than you may think. Family must ever come before all else, and I would never wish to draw you away from your duties.

I was comforted to know that you thought of me, and that your absence was not born of unkindness. That knowledge alone eased my heart greatly.

If fate allows, I shall return to the hill once more. Should you be there, I would count myself fortunate. If not, I shall still think of you kindly beneath the same sky.

Until then, take care of yourself, my pet.

—Pelta

When I finished, I read the letter over several times, my face warm with a feeling I do not yet have words for. I fear I may have revealed too much, though I told myself it was written only in friendship. Still, my heart did not believe that lie.

I wonder what she will think when she reads it. I wonder if she smiles when she hears my name—Pelta—as I smile when I think of hers.

I have hidden the letter away now, but my thoughts remain with her. I pray that she writes again, though I tremble at the thought just the same.