I am—was—Sanessalmo's adjutant. May my loyalty be rewarded in another life.
I worked for decades with the master. When he was—I thought—unjustly removed from the Queen's Court, I stood with him. No one could judge him for what happened to his wife, I thought. The public eye can be cruel. But the man I work for now bears little resemblance to that man. He has broken.
I have performed tasks in these strange landscapes of the mind that would make most moral men shiver. I have supported rituals so heinous that the line between death and life is blurred. I mourn for the Sanessalmo I knew: witty conversationalist, loyal employer, loving husband.
The monster he has become. Is unrecognizable. I write these words staring at a wall of ice. Certain to be the last thing I see.
Should someone find ths letter, I hope they do better by Sanessalmo than I.