I suppose I ought to expand on just what it was that Erik's birth meant to me. If this book is to belong to my Lady, there are things she has heard me mutter, half to myself while curled in her arms, that I have never fully explained. I have no doubt that she has figured them out on her own, but I ought to say them here, one last chance to be clear.
No one held me in wonder at my own birth.
No one delighted in my first cries, no one shed tears of joy at the miracle that was me.
My mother, I have learned, turned away from me and refused to allow me to suckle, instead refusing to touch me and leaving me in the care of a wetnurse.
My father then left me to die in the battle, knowing there would be no one minding the temple. I was a shame on my family then, as I am again now.
Erik's birth brought to stark light what I have been searching for my entire life- for someone to look upon me in wonder and delight, to be joyful at my arrival, and to see me as something more than just a nuisance, or, at worst, disposable, to be replaced by a better son later.
Perhaps this is why She was so precious. Even when I broke Her heart, She was still searching for something in me to be joyful over. Even when I rejected Her as I had been rejected at birth, She still called me Hers.
And then to be so lucky to have Sigyn open her door to me and to hear the delight in her voice when I stepped inside and dropped the glamour... I could not have hoped that twice in my life I would find such love.
I have wasted it, for certain.
But I ask for forgiveness, dearest Sigyn, and I would from Her if it were possible.
You are the only one who might mourn me.