My Dearest Lady Cotton

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  The dark and dusty room brought nothing but allergies to her senses. Shuffling through her chests, the young wife huffed at the many unnecessary items lingering around their storage space. "Why do we have so many linen tunics??" Cotton mumbled, rubbing her nose and astonished over the many tunics kicked out of the chest.

    A week had past since her Husband was called into the Castle again. The Summer Festival was nearing, and the young Wife had begun to fret that perhaps their scheduled date would never make an appearance. However, she hadn't allowed such a thought to fog her happy mood. She knew he would come back. Eventually. At least he wasn't gone for months, or sent off and away to a dangerous place. 

   Grumbling in despair, she puffed out a breath of annoyance. Planting her hands upon her hips, the lavender lass shook her exhausted head upon the audacity. It was nowhere to be found. Her journal had simply disappeared like a thief in the night! It's been ages since she last wrote in it, it had to be there somewhere.

   Maybe if we made all these tunics into a quilt, then we'd be able to find it. Suggested her conscious, poking her side once again. Absolutely not. She responds, waving it down. You know how many of these Louis rips apart!

   Even to this day the young wife had no idea how her Husband made all those holes in his tunics. She always questioned him about it, but the man always shrugged and replied with a 'I don't know' façade.

   One day she will corner him into telling her, there were only so many she could fix!

   Opening another chest filled with her Husband's old weapons and armor, a letter fluttered down in front of her puzzled face. She plucked it up with stupefaction, unable to reason how it appeared. If she remembered correctly, all the letters she had received were in a little drawer connected to a shelf in her shared room.

   So how did it even get into the attic?

   As she rose from her sitting position to re-organize it into the collection, her ocean hues caught sight of how fresh it appeared. It wasn't crumbled, or wrinkled, but more... New. 

   Scratching the back of her head, Cotton hummed curiously as she opened the parchment.

   "Turn around..?" She relayed from the missive. What is this? This was definitely a letter from her Husband, but turn around? What does he mean? Scrunching a brow, the young wife turned the parchment in her hands and re-read the letter.

    With no choice, her heart spasmed in her chest as the lilac haired woman gulped down her nervous jitters.

   Tentatively, Cotton turned her head to be face to face with a smiling silver haired man. Her breath hitched as her confound gaze trailed over his strong arms that were opened for an embrace. Blue meeting blue, her eyes trembled with the sparkling tears trailing down her cheeks.

   Dropping the letter, she smooshed herself against her Husband's hard chest, desperately drinking in the sounds of his sweet heart beats. He was back. He was finally back. After those long, long days, he finally returned home.

   Nuzzling his bruised chin upon the crown of her lilac colored head, her Husband sighed peacefully against her warmth and squeezed her lithe form closer to his aching heart.

   "I'm home."

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My Dearest Lady Cotton,

  Turn around.

Forever Yours,

Your Handsome Husband in Shining Armor,

Louis.