The 24th day of September 2023

Madame,

It delights me to report I woke this morning having dreamt of doing so in your embrace. I hope Madame will forgive my saying so, such a scandalous transgression of the household’s social order. I found I could not help but dwell on this thought long after I had removed myself from bed. I confess that while this thought may be unacceptable, it brings a smile to my face to imagine having planted it in your mind as well. It has remained with me all day.

I write to you late today as I have been predisposed to entertaining The Little Master for some considerable time, much to my great amusement (and hopefully his).

On my travels to see him I made time to visit with the travelling storyteller, I imagine he is quite sick of the sight of me at this point, though I’m compelled to know how Piranesi ends. What a voice. It has been a welcome contrast as I have found my mind wandering off the page incessantly while trying to read. I wonder if he has any other grand stories to tell.

I must say I have been subjected to visiting the gaming fields and observing the local folk playing football. While a welcome distraction, I must confess myself wholly disinterested in the event itself. Though I do enjoy how much of a good time everyone else appears to be having. I think there is a suggestion this will happen again this evening. Give me strength.

While quenching my thirst at the Broken Tankard late yesterday, I observed our couple in a dark corner. It appeared the wench was casually sitting in the barman’s lap. They were alternating between laughing like hyenas and engaging in a form of kissing usually not displayed in public. I caught myself thinking that while this display was somewhat indulgent, it was not wholly inappropriate as their antics typically are. That is until I realised where the barman’s hand had found itself. Needless to say, it was the wench who was later observed with a smug expression. Scandal.

I hope I find Madame in good spirits. My thoughts are of you.

Yours, A.