Into Chaos Hurled (Book 2)

The Last Letter of Major Arthur Kingsley, Lord Radford, British Second Army

And now, I present to you, Arthur's letter. Perhaps after reading it you will see why it broke Emma's heart.

February 10, 1918

Emma, my dear Countess,

     Whenever I think of our time together, even if it was very short, I see nothing but us surrounded by a golden light. You already know I was one of the men in love with you, and I believe that I never broke my promise to you. Now, nearing my middle age, I am one of the oldest—but also one of the most eligible—bachelors in all of central London. I miss you every day that I am out here on the front, but I see you every time I look at your son. He is like you in so many ways, Emma, that I cannot believe he is not a Fire-Elemental. I am sure he will go on to do great things, and follow in your footsteps. It is a noble path, at any rate, one that has already set him up for success.

     Speaking of your son, I have come to admire him as much as I admire you. His spirit and his energy are unmatched by any of the men in this battalion. He has a willingness to do the things others would be afraid to do, and I find that both an asset and a danger. So far, he has been a fine soldier, and I would not be surprised if he were awarded a medal or two for his valor and bravery. Even I, as a senior commanding officer, do not have that kind of courage.

     There are many things I would like to say to you, but given the long strained relationship I have with your husband and our history, I cannot, other than in this letter. I wish you every happiness, and even though we have the same things—large houses, grounds, servants, chauffeurs, status and money—I do not have what you have, and I do not believe I ever will. A family is something I always wanted, and I would like to carry on my father's noble legacy. But alas, some get the good lot in life and others do not. You have two wonderful children and a husband who loves you very much and would give his life for you. Never have I seen such devotion from someone, and I do hope he continues to give it. It is my greatest happiness to see that you have found yours, like I said before.

     You must know, Emma, that I have considered going out and finding myself a wife many times. I would like a Lady Radford, certainly, but I would require the spiritedness, the headstrong independence, and the selflessness that you have. All of the ladies I have met throughout my life have been very beautiful, and some quite intelligent and sensible, but I knew they would not be enough to fill the place in my heart I always kept empty for you. I love you, and I will continue to love you, but now I have accepted that we can never be. Christopher is and always will be your true love.

     Thinking about all of this makes me wonder what my life would have been like had I not met you. Father used to tell me I should have been direct about it and told you right away how I felt. But I never did, because you were engaged, soon to be married, and it would have been inappropriate. I still believe it is. Yet I do believe that however indirectly, you gave me my freedom. I am neither completely bound to the Order nor am I trapped in a loveless marriage. I will always keep the memory of you close to me, because you have always shown me the way.

     I know Christopher has said many times that we were friends as boys, and I must now tell you that is true. We were the products of families that believed we were untouchable–mine because of our place in society, Christopher's because of the power his father had as head of the Order. It was not so much Benedict Huntley's reign of terror that drove us apart as it was our lives after it happened. Christopher was so sheltered he missed every London season leading up to the time he met you, and I was driven by grief and vengeance for what Huntley had done to my parents. And yet I believe you brought us both into the light, and as we stood blinking in the sun, you helped us see that there was indeed life after that one as well.

     I must close this letter now, because my men and the other officers are becoming restless. They do not believe I contribute enough, accusing me of being distracted by something I have no hope of gaining. I do not know if that means victory in the war or another thing. Perhaps I will never know, and perhaps I am not meant to. Whatever the case, I will always remain yours,

Arthur.