I am still exhausted. My body still drained both emotionally and physically. I cannot recall how much of the last few days I have mentioned. I try to read back, yet my vision falters and I fear I may fall sleep on the parchment.
Committing Ervis’ body to his family crypt and his soul to its place as the guardian of his line would be hard enough given he was my daesohn. Would have been nearly impossible given the guilt I still feel over my part in his death.
Yet it was watching the suffering of his poor mother that brought me closest to breaking. Those wailing sobs, that soul shredding cry to bring him back. I did wonder if I might perish from the pain of watching and hearing her misery. Perhaps I might have if not for the small hands gripping at my sleeve.
I could not let myself drown in my emotions. I always wished that I could, if only to spare myself the suffering of those hours, seemingly weeks, of pain. Yet, my son was lost. To watch his uncle’s spirit take its place inside the tomb was difficult. He did not understand why his uncle would not speak with him, not play with him. I tried as best I could to explain that not all spirits are strong enough to speak.
And my miserable wretched selfishness was glad for it. I did not have to chance Ervis’ rage or sadness from beyond the grave. Though I did speak my farewells to him. Since my son would not part my side, I spoke my regrets in common tongue, no need to make the boy suffer further. Together Sildras and I bid my daesohn farewell. He seemed to not be so angry. Perhaps my words carried meaning enough. Or perhaps it was simply the calmness of his being free of mortal concerns.
It was difficult. Avon and I assisted Ervis’ mother back to her home. The poor mer was half out of her mind. Worse than when she lost her husband and daughter. I think this latest tragedy the hardest. Ervis was always her favorite.
I do not blame her half mad misery. I feel it keenly as well. Avon is staying with her over night. He fears she may finally try to end her life. I admit, I also feared that much. Mother and I took turns watching Sildras while the other stood first night’s watch over the tomb. I have no doubt that Ervis is strong enough, even in death, to kill any that may try to break in. Yet tradition stands and it is best to ensure that the dead stay where they belong. As much as the undead make my skin crawl just to think of, it is my duty as living closest kin and brother.
When I returned home and tried to begin to write, Sildras came and crawled into my lap, falling asleep across my arms so that I couldn’t write a thing until now. Mother is making sure he takes his bath.
It gives me time to finish up tonight’s dinner preparations. I have hired all the chefs. The ingredients will be delivered.
I not only have had specialties from Elsweyr and Black Marsh prepared, I even had Avon deliver that 60 year old Altmeri wine his parents have been holding onto and had an entire set of courses from the Isles prepared. Though it pains me that I had to listen to any self-satisfied Altmer, let alone one who I am employing for the sake of another.
Yet the Altmer is a guest in my home and did his part for our plan with what must have taken every grain of self-control he possessed. He would likely consider it to be a total lack of complaint, though I heard plenty enough uttered to know that is not correct. Still, he swallowed his pride already and surely I am more capable of decorum than an Altmer.
Mah! I must go get changed into evening silks. The tailors father hired completely miscalculated my size based off father’s description and I had to have most of my clothes taken back for resizing. At last I have the one set of evening clothes I had fitted earlier. Even though I hate wearing the Indoril colors. The Indigo makes my skin look too green. Crimson is a color made me for. It brings out my eyes and gives my skin the right glow.
By the three, what now? Sounds like more problems for me to fix. I do hope my companions appreciate the meal. And I think Sildras will like to be properly introduced to those who traveled with me. I know he keeps asking about meeting his step sister again. Not that with his poor common tongue and her being so young, they have much of a way to communicate together on their own. But the language of play and childish curiosity can go far. I am sure they will find a way.
And thank the three mother helped to keep father busy this afternoon. I am sure the Altmer will appreciate not having the bother during a meal. I know I will.
I better go see to things. This house is a mess since Urtisa took over its management. The three guide me.