Adriane’s death has been all over the city. Rumors are spreading. It’s on the tongue of the innkeeper and the ears of all the guards. Sooner or later, it will come back to Darien and me. But for now, further investigation into the case has been postponed. Jarl Balgruuf, the mayor of this city, fear that the situation might be too sensitive. He’s right, too. Adriane was the daughter of Proventus Avenicci, the right hand man and advisor to the Jarl. When the guard brought news of the murder to Proventus, he broke into tears right in front of the whole court. Never before, have I seen an advisor to the Jarl in such a state. He collapsed to the floor, pounding on the cold granite of Whiterun and demanding the Nine Divines to return Adriane to him.
Poor Proventus, I can only imagine the pains that he suffers. To imagine losing a daughter is painful enough. I sometimes ask myself what I would do if I lose my dear Fiona. Regardless of how much thought and contemplation, I could never imagine a life without her. A life with my dear Fiona and beautiful Dora was all I wanted fourteen years ago. Before then, I would laugh at the idea of me walking a little girl to school. Now, not a day goes by that I don’t take Fiona to school in the morning, singing the Nordic rhymes, and picking the mountain flowers, along the way. A life with my dear Fiona and beautiful Dora was why I stashed my adventurer’s boots, and put on the working boots fourteen years ago.
4th of Last Seed
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