At the beginning of the summer season, a handsome young man sought council with your parents, the lord and lady of the land. He came bearing fine silks, beads, perfumes, and dishes, recently procured from a foreign land. Your mother had been vaguely interested by the beads, and your father by the fine porcelain, so they bought a few wares each. Perhaps the finest ware—in your opinion, anyway—was no silk, bead, or plate at all, but the suave and charming creature which presented them.

You coaxed him into staying an afternoon, and then a little longer. Some days later, you had a chamber set up for him. Your parents were made distinctly uneasy by the clear infatuation at first, from you, their first son, toward another boy. But, seeing how happy you were when he was near, and low-spirited when he was away, they eventually gave up. Perhaps the next one would give them grandchildren.

The first leaves have recently begun to yellow, and a drizzle is in the air. You are taking leisure time by the window, though it lacks a certain joy while Gabriel is away, visiting his family.