KIND HEARTS AND CORONETS
I took my gold doubloons from your attic where
I'd had them kept; nothing quite dramatic, they
were still there yet. You'd placed a soldier or a
sheriff there, it seemed, to guard them. Yes,
I had to slay him quickly, just to get him to
move - silly action perhaps, but that else could
I do? The locket of possession I wore upon my
heart, though he claimed to recognize it not. And
these things, after all, were mine. Only later did
I realize once again my oversight - if I had killed
a Sheriff, as may be, I forgot to remember this :
every Sheriff has a Deputy.
-
It's way too late now for condolences, small one,
kind one, kinder heart and coronet. I am sorry
for what I did, but more sorry still for leaving yet.
My matters matter not; I should get used to that.
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