Post by Sir Phillip Crane on Oct 26, 2022 16:56:10 GMT
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[attr="class","target"] | [attr="class","targettext"]Things had not been . . . easy since Marina's passing. Though that was perhaps a gross understatement. While life had not exactly been, lively and enjoyable while she was alive, everything felt far more bleak now. Phillip mourned not for the loss of a wife. While he was not heartless, he also knew that he and Marina held no affections for one another. He married her out of honor and duty, and she married him because . . . she was left with no other choice. So Phillip was not naïve nor foolish to believe that their marriage held any sort of love or even happiness. While the loss of a life was indeed a tragic thing -- particularly the way her own ended -- it was not the wife that he mourned. It was the loss of a mother for the children. Amanda and Oliver were his children in all ways apart from blood. He regarded them as his own and loved them as such. But, he knew that fatherhood was not his strength. And yet, they deserved a good father so he would do all he could to provide them that. And eventually, find a suitable and loving mother for them as well. Since Marina's passing, Phillip found himself in the greenhouse more often, particularly when the children were with their tutor. It allowed Phillip to escape the stresses -- or at least numb them -- of this life and focus on something he rather enjoyed. He had not had many he was able to discuss botany with, for Marina held no interest not even feigned to be interested. So it left Phillip with all this energy and desire to learn more, fascination in hobby to remain silent and unspoken. Many knew not to interrupt him when he was in such a mode, so when his butler burst inside, Phillip immediately stopped at looked at him. The man was pale and out of breath. Something was wrong. "Is it the children?" Phillip immediately asked, that being his first and primary concern. "N-No My Lord. It . . ." The man was a bit out of breath and . . . looked as if he had just seen a ghost. Phillip waited for him to finish but he seemed to be struggling to find the words. "It is . . . " Phillip did not have the patience for this. "Come on then, out with it." His tone stern but not raised. The butler just stared with him, wide eyed and clearly uncertain how to proceed. "You must come to the house." And Phillip knew well enough that that was the only response he was going to get from him. Letting out an agitated sigh, he set down his tool and made his way to the house. He did not bother to clean himself up as he went through the back door and towards the entrance. When he entered the foyer, Phillip immediately froze. The color drained from his face as he stared at the figure in front of him. This could not possibly be real. This could only be a dream, surely. Phillip's voice went dry and he felt as if he could not speak, let alone breathe. Yet one word came to his lips, the only word he was capable of uttering in this very moment as shock consumed every fiber of his being. "George?" {hover over the image to see tags and notes} |
i would merely be doing my duty
allow me to realize my late brother's wishes