|9th of Evening Star
I received news today of my dear Orellia's death. How can the Divines treat me so? Have I not toiled tirelessly to use my fortunes and my skills to glorify their names? Am I deserving of such blatant disregard and malice? I just cannot bear this pain. Even as I write these words I know that my heart died with you, my dear wife. I will press onward, though, somehow and finish this building, and dedicate it to you as it is my most beautiful work, befitting of you, and will be my last. I just had the commission drawn up yesterday for a marble statue to be built in your likeness and came to agreement with the sculptor, paying the deposit to start the work and had not the chance to deliver the official agreement and balance owed. But it seems now that it will be a memorial of you, rather than a tribute. Oh, how I wanted you to see this place, and to see your statue adorn the entrance. All I can hope now is that you will gaze down upon me from the seat of the Divines and smile. I suppose a drink is in order to drown my sorrow and, perhaps the cold air and a walk out back will aid to clear my thoughts, then I will deliver the commission agreement and payment first thing in the morning.