July 15th, 1799

"My dear, my beloved.

I will be home soon. Now that Canclaux is secured, Anjou is no more, and the Directory is appeased with our actions in the south, Obermann has been given orders to move half of our troops to Courrer, and repeat the same scorched earth policy there. And the National Convention, from what we've heard, is considering applying said policy on all small cities and towns that currently belong, or used to belong, to the royalists.

Since almost all of them are located in the southern region of Gwalarn, Obermann is referring to this string of extermination missions as the "Gwalarn Campaign", which is a term that sounds utterly repulsive to me.

I do not agree with, or condone, any of his choices. I do not find any glee in watching people die. After your "Death" I used to —that I'm willing to admit— but now... Now I cannot understand how on earth I became such a monster on the battlefield.

My hands aren't only stained, they are still dripping with blood. And I know the crimson droplets will continue to fall endlessly through the following days, weeks, months, and years of my life, against my will.

I'm trying to keep myself together, for my sake, Laupin's, yours, and my men's. But it's been hard. I've fallen victim to a terrible sadness. I've become ill with the worst and most unforgiving of illnesses, melancholy.

At least I'm not the only feeling like this. I've spoken to Laupin, Séverin and Arquette, written to Jacques, Charlie and Pierre, and all of us seem to be quite downcast and under the weather as of lately. Well, that's me being gentle, and trying not to use foul language to describe our actual moods. But... it's bad. That I can assure you.

This is why, once Courrer is taken care of, I will request some time off to meet you there at the capital. I need your company to heal the invisible wounds that tear my soul apart. I need to lay my heavy head on your lap, so I can rest peacefully, as I haven't been able to since I arrived here. I long to hear your joyful laughter, and listen to the gentle words of your sweet voice, more than I long to hear the singing of angels up in heaven. And God forgive me, but the sight of his son would be less amusing and inspiring to me, than the sight of you.

Also, I've been notified of the Duke's upcoming trial through MM. Laupin. She wrote to me, and explained the situation with in great detail —something for which I'm deeply grateful—. I do not wish you to be alone near that despicable man ever again. So I will travel up north and stand by you as you face him in court.

My reasons explained, I hope you are yearning for my return as much as I am yearning to leave the south.

But please, keep me updated. How are you? How are little Laura and her mother doing? What new political disaster is the Directory planning now? What is happening at the National Convention? What about the coastline? Do you know if the Staeltorn Kingdom is still attacking us? I don't know much about the rest of the country being stationed here in the south. So any bits and pieces of information you could give me are useful.

Do not forget that I love you, and that I miss you more than words can say.

We'll see each other soon, my darling.

-Francis Forestier"