Dearest Aurea,  My most beloved sister and trusted friend!

I hold in my soul the purest of all love as I regard myself as nothing more than your most loyal servant.  As such, I beseech you to please join me in my chambers forthwith for I have urgent and glorious news, news that simply must be shared and shared with you and you alone.  If I am unable to unburden, my blood shall boil inside of my veins, my skull shall shatter into a thousand pieces, and my heart shall utterly explode.  My mind is overflowing with ængst and anticipation of your affirmation, and assurance, and acceptance.  Given the tender and virtuous nature of your heart, I do not believe that you would allow me to languish in such a solitary state for even a moment as to do so would be an act of  bona-fide barbarism, brutality, and brutishness of which I believe you wholly incapable.

I best suspend further details, lest reveal the essence of my scintillating silver secret.  After all, you are undoubtedly the cleverest and wisest of all my sisters and no doubt have already partially solved my deliciously disturbing and delightfully delectable riddle. However, I shall reveal to you — so that you understand the exigency of these circumstances and therefore respond with appropriate urgency — that I have finally received the holy blessing from the Goddesses Fortuna and Dianna of which I have for so long dared to dream. 

As I have already gifted you this hint, I must insist that our meeting take place post-haste as I am certain that I do not possess the strength of character to endure the excruciating agony of your absence.  I am confident that you will fulfill my summons of your sworn service and make immediate arrangements to join me in my chambers on this eve during the hour of the witch.  Naturally, let none be aware of our plans — least of all our stark nemesis, the formidable and diabolical Mistress Duenna.  Prone to vindictive self-vindication, she would, without hesitation, report any and all indiscretions directly to the Headmistress herself, the dire consequences of which I need not elucidate.  Make no mistake, the Mistress would indeed feel nothing but pure delight at the thought of her most avid, ardent, and adroit adversary (Yours Truly) sliced into raw strips of bloody flesh and fed to the hungry hounds. 

Rest assured that I have constructed a foolproof plan.  As you are keenly aware, Mistress Duenna feels no enmity whatsoever towards the bottle.  In fact, quite to the contrary.  How many times has she been declared lost only to be found disoriented and delirious after fully crawling inside her favorite vintage?  Thereupon lies our unimpeachable path to thrilling success in our secret mission in the name of the sacred order of our divine sisterhood.

I do ask now that you pay particularly close attention to the following instructions, as the slightest deviation or hesitation could destine doom, debacle, and devastation, leading to our ultimate demise.  In other words, we would be totally effed!

I have arranged for one of the kitchen boys, for never has there been a kinder, sweeter, and more gullible young lad, to deliver a bottle to the Duenna’s study tonight during evening prayers.  His instructions are to seek from the wine cellar the rarest, most reputable, and tantalizing vintage with which he may safely abscond (preferably a merlot of which she is particularly fond).  Furthermore,  I have instructed him to select a bottle from the Bordeaux collection, each of which holds more than gallon of the noxious and narcotic beverage of which she has so thoroughly habituated.  As surely as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the Mistress shall surrender to irresistible temptation as, at the core of her character, she is a creature of vice rather than virtue and valor.  She will seek relief from her perpetual and profound melancholy, eventually succumbing to the soporific effect of the fermented grape.  During this period of intoxicated inebriation, curfew violations, forbidden rendezvous, and any such varieties of forbidden activities may be performed without fear of detection and subsequent detention.

Equally certain am I that our heroic lad will embrace his full potential and perform with the utmost bravery as he is enthralled with adoration, affection, and altruism.  Our first encounter was as romantic as a storybook.  It was a classic example of, as you yourself have often referred, the quintessential sweet-meet, and he, the dashing young hero who has yet to fully embrace his manhood and thus fearful of offense is nonetheless driven by the passionate and that dwells deeply within his youthful loins.

Our affair began in the Grande Hall as he served evening tea.  His youthful spirit radiated with brilliance, fire, and virility.  Yet his lack of maturity, confidence, and elegance, resulted in motion about the room that, at times, appeared to be entirely lacking in direction.  He gracefully flittered and fluttered about the room, swooping in one direction, then suddenly changing course.  His was the flight of a falling feather, swooping in and swirling about with unpredictability, yet inevitably settling under the irresistible force of gravity.  As the moon is to the earth, he rotated about me, yet drawing ever closer, ever inward by an invisible yet powerful force of nature.

As he approached me, his demeanor was detectably cumbersome and his expression mildly imappropriate.  To his credit, the musical china cups, dancing maniacally in their saucers, failed to reveal him.  Not a single drop of tea spilled nor stained.  Yet, one could hardly fail to notice his trembling hands.  Fortunately, fate was on our side as the collective attention of the room lie elsewhere.

Vanna-Gloria began to regale the room with a dubious tale detailing the proud military history of her infamous bloodline.  And then, just as she approached the stirring finale, disruption intervened.  Claris, apparently sensing the opportunity of crime, snatched a slice of chestnut bread off of Sally’s plate and deftly stuffed it into her gaping maw.  To this, Harper began shouting slanderous accusations to which the room fell silent.  All heads turned as they awaited Claris’ declaration of innocence.  Her cheeks bursting with nuts and dough and therefore entirely incapable of lucid locution, responded culpably, “Mo I mim-ment!”  With the room silent with anticipation, Claris’ incriminating swallow reverberated through the chambers resulted in an eruptions of snickers, taunts, and recriminations.  Then, as she has so often does, Vanna-Gloria’s exploded with rage, tripling the amplitude of her already unusually sonorous voice, threatening each and every soul in the room, daring them to further deviate from civilized decorum by encroaching upon her rightful rations.

It was this critical moment during which the clever hero of our story seized his destiny.  As he turned his shoulders and moved by my side, our bodies were in such close proximity that I felt the exchange of energy in the form of heat and radiation.  I detected the intensity with which his eyes probed my own.  I could feel his yearning to search the depths of my soul and in turn reveal his own.  Within him, I sensed a sincere tenderness and an innocence rarely found within the typically uneducated, uncivilized, and generally inferior gender.

As you are most aware, I am keenly attuned to matters of the heart and take immense pride in my singular talent.  I do hope I have been convincing in my assertion that circumstances warranted the abuse of said powers, and, that my motivations fell within the parameters of justice, grace, and altruism.  On these charges, I will say nothing further in my humble defense.  I shall now digress.

Rather than dismiss this bewitched dove, I responded deftly, seizing the moment, simultaneously discrete, yet coy, and provocative.  In a most skillful and clandestine fashion, so as to not impugn my own reputation, I joined in his gaze, however briefly, yet with a singular force so powerful that waves of light could not escape.  Then, I signalled to him with a discrete wink, a careful smile, and a glancing touch of my hand.  I swear on the eternal and beneficent soul of Saint Chastity that this was an involuntary act, one that bubbled up from the depths of a devious dungeon buried deep within my subconscious mind!

Do you think me wicked?

The resulting affectation was so severe that his chest swelled and his cheeks and neck turned a dark shade of crimson.  The sparkling sapphire in his eyes transformed into pools of ebony.  Across his skin, beads of perspiration flowed as voluminous as widow’s tears.  I feared that he would seize, drop his tray, and collapse to the floor in a fit of apoplexy.  However, to his credit, he conducted himself with sophistication and discretion.  As I witnessed his capacity for cool composure in critical circumstance, it occurred to me that he be considered a candidate for recruit.  As such, on the following morning, I, deploying a deceptively clever ruse, managed to brush up against him in the back stairwell.  There, I surreptitiously slipped into his possession a sweet note composed on tiny parchment, rolled so tightly as to fit cleanly within the palm of his hand. Henceforth, he and I have been secretly corresponding.   Needless to say, he is most eager to do my bidding.

In this, as in all matters, you, my sweetest sister, must take comfort in my prudence as ours is a most venal world fouled by traitors, informants, and those who simply enjoy cruelty as a remedy for their own the inner discontent and dreary existence. If you have faith, faith in my love for you, and faith in the divine providence that blesses our sisterhood, then place your trust in my sacred oath!

Oh, sweet Aurea!  Our time together has been so filled with merry and mirth.  I shall be counting each breath and every beat of my heart until I feel the warmth of your familiar touch.  I crave the glow of your gilded soul and your unique spirit of optimism.  I relish the validation of your affection.  I hunger for the deliciousness of your wit and the vitality of your essence.

In my bed, I shall lie in the pretense of sleep, remaining silent as I await the secret and sacred signal of our dubiously small but infinitely righteous and omnipotent sisterhood.

Until then,
Your dear, sincere, and most humble friend,

Mataya