" When I reached my rooms, I saw a letter lying on my table. Hastily stripping off my gloves, I sank down onto my pillows, heedless of the costly fabric of my court gown crinkling and billowing about me, and broke the seal with my finger. The Unknown had written: Well, I had no answer to make to that; thinking about Elenet, or Shevraeth, or that carved throne, caused a cold ache inside, as if I had lost something I had not hitherto valued. So I didn’t write back that day. Or the next. The following morning I received a letter that did not refer to thrones, queens, or coronations, to my intense relief. And so, for a handful of days anyway, things went right back to normal. Except, what is normal at any given time? We change just as the seasons change, and each spring brings new growth. So nothing is ever quite the same. I realize now that what I wanted was comfort, but that, too, does not often come with growth and change. "