When Paul finished, Damian returned to the barracks, drying his hair with a towel, his dark brown locks growing darker as they became wet with the water.
His comrades were contrary to his habit of sleeping early and waking up at dawn, as they dispersed throughout the camp even though the evening had settled, and he found himself alone in the barracks, so he contented himself with putting on his clothes and sitting on the edge of the bed.
While he was massaging his tense neck muscles, he saw a neglected letter on his desk in the corner of the barracks on a table in the corner of the barracks.
“You must respond.
If you do not respond, they will think you were killed before you wrote, so do not disappoint anyone.”
He almost turned away from it, but Paul's words stuck in his mind, so he extended his hand and took the letter.
He had chosen it randomly from among what Paul had shown him without thinking, but now he noticed that the envelope was luxurious, made of precious paper, and had a blue wax seal on it that showed traces of being opened and then glued.
It was not surprising that the letter was opened, as all foreign military correspondence is under strict control to prevent the leakage of secrets or the infiltration of spies.
When he removed the wax seal and opened the envelope, a pleasant floral scent emanated from it.
Damien instinctively bent his head and smelled it, and it was a pleasant fragrance whose source he did not know.
He had heard that girls of his generation sprayed perfume on their letters, but he had never received anything like it before, so this was the first scented letter he had received.
"A woman then."
Although there are women in the army, most of it is made up of boys who long for the mere mention of femininity, so the idea of raising morale with women’s messages was not far from the truth.
However, the problem is that the recipient was Damian Stern, who did not really care.
He carefully took out the folded paper, and the scent of the flowers became more pronounced.
The paper was good, but without the elegance of the envelope, and when I opened it, I was greeted by elegant, round lines, and the message was short, clear and clear.
[Peace be upon you, soldier whose name and face are unknown.
I was glad that chance brought us together.
I am a girl from a humble family, I live in a beautiful countryside, and I am not important, so I have nothing to brag about when introducing myself.”
"Aristocratic?"
Twenty years ago, when Estarica was under the control of Zoviles, most of its nobles, including the royal family, were exterminated or stripped of their titles.
Despite their descent into the rank of commoners, some of them cling to false pride, as the Marquis of Jessica does.
A clumsy aristocracy seeking amusement.
Damian frowned at what he thought was arrogance, and continued reading:
[This correspondence is said to boost soldiers' morale, so forgive me if I sound boring.
The truth is that I do not know if I can entertain those who are fighting for us, even in a strange land.
If you have no problem writing to someone like me, would you be so kind as to respond when you have the opportunity?
If you do not like my situation and refuse to respond, I will not blame you, but I will be worried if I do not hear from you, for fear that you may die.
July 3, 1878,
As I watch the swans swimming in the lake,
-Lintree]
Moroha.
Its pronunciation is like ri and rin yā’, stressed and open.
The letter did not contain anything essential, and what I learned about the sender was that she was a woman named Lintree.
I did not know if it was her first name or her surname, but I had not heard of it as a family name.
What is the expected hadith with an unknown person?
But he had nothing to occupy him, and he was the type of person who finished his tasks early.
Damian sat at the table, took out the attached reply paper and envelope, and took his ink pen.
Then it became clear to him why Lentry's message was short, as she also did not know what to say.
So he recalled the rules of courtesy and began writing:
[Madam Lintree,
Thank you for your message, we are honored by this acquaintance.
We are in North Estárica, so July weather is not hot.
How is the weather there?
There is no doubt that the heat is starting to intensify now.
I had only been away from the country for a year and a half, but my memory began to fade.]
Since he could not find another topic, he started talking about the weather, but then he ran out of money.
So he began to grip his pen and press it to his forehead, then he rushed to write:
[The truth is that I am not good at narrating news.
I am a good reader, but my writing barely exceeds the level of success.
I assure you that my speech will be more boring than yours, so you do not need to worry about being boring.
Even if you were like that - i.e. boring -, I'm in no position to complain.
My leader offered me a choice of a thesis, and unfortunately for you, I chose yours.
If you wish to write to another soldier, I will give your letters to a comrade in the platoon, who is handsome and popular with women, and who will write to you in a more pleasant style than mine.]
When he was fed up with more, he was about to seal the letter, but he stopped at the signature, as Mrs.
Lintree had not declared her last name, so why should he?
The name "Stern" might attract attention, so he chose to write a pseudonym.
[July 14, 1878,
From a lonely barracks,
1st Lt.
McCord.
Note: "McCord" is a pseudonym, so my real name doesn't sound right, so excuse me.]
Tomorrow morning, Damian delivered the letter to the official after breakfast.
She was supposed to reach Lintree's house in six or ten days.
Damian remembered the slowness of military mail, and saw it as ineffective, as he would not exchange correspondence with his wife more than twice a month, that is, four letters a month.
What kind of continuous dialogue would this be?
Then he quickly forgot about the whole matter.
While he escaped death twice, and received four reprimands from Paul, he received a letter from Mrs.
Lintree.
He did not know at first that it was his.
Since she did not know his name, the envelope was written “First Lieutenant McCord,” so it remained in the mailbox for three days before it was discovered.
Once again, the luxurious envelope came to him with beautiful round lines, but this time it was devoid of perfume.
[To First Lieutenant McCord, who thinks himself a better hope than I,
Peace be upon you, sir.
It is time for us to have a name to call you, even if we do not know your real name.
I don't know what you meant by saying that it's not beautiful, but I understand that you don't like it, and I won't ask you why.
I am honored that my thesis was among what was chosen.]