At last, I'm alone.
With a smile, I eagerly pull out paper to write him another letter. This one, I leave at his clinic door again, with a special request of one of his favorite flowers.
What I find when I place the beautiful arrangement of flowers, is a delicate envelope tucked mostly under the mat, addressed to 'my kind admirer'. A reply!!
Grinning in triumph, I quickly stuff the letter into the breast of my jacket, where no prying eyes will spot it, and walk back to my mansion with a spring in my step.
Rushing past concerned maids, I slam the door shut behind me, falling to the floor in a heap of giggles as I clutch the letter to my chest.
I scramble onto my bed, unable to contain my elation, kicking my legs around as I eagerly tear into the letter, heart pounding as my eyes fall across the neatly scripted letters:
My beloved secret admirer,
I must confess, I was entirely shocked and confused the other morning to find a mysterious note on my door. Since that day, I've not known what to do with myself. My clinic has never seen as many visitors as it has in the past few days.
My staff is greatly perplexed by the sudden popularity of the establishment.
Your kindness is very much appreciated. For whatever reason it was that led you to act in such a way, please know that my thanks and appreciation for your efforts are entirely genuine.
It warms my heart that so many of those in my city have finally heard my words and wishes to avoid harm to those who would otherwise suffer.
You cannot know the relief that eases my spirit to know that my skills in healing have reached more than the occasional desperate soul, who so often reaches out to me because no one else is willing to help them.
Though I must admit, your motives remain a complete mystery to me, and I struggle to guess the purpose of your gentle flattery.
This is not to say that I disapprove! Far from it, as your thoughtful messages have been a shining point of warmth and joy in my life.
Perhaps, some day, you would allow me the pleasure of meeting the woman whose clever, enchanting letters and generous, sweet gift-giving have made such a delightful and pleasant disruption in my quiet routine.
Until then, I hope that the generosity and graciousness I see in your actions extend to allowing me the privilege of your name at some time.
And until the day that I can, at least, see the face of my esteemed and respected secret admirer, I will burn in agony with curiosity regarding her beauty, as surely it must be as divine as the contents of her character.
From,
Dr. Viktor Schulte
My smile can't grow any wider. Rereading the letter is the greatest indulgence and torture all at once, I need to calm down. Biting my lip, I roll to my back, clutching it to my chest as my cheeks hurt.
How could this man possibly be more perfect?!
Every line of his letter is lovely. Sweet, warm, elegant, poetic! My heart aches for him.
It takes immense self control not to simply rush out and throw myself at him, abandoning this secret admirer business entirely.
But no.
My dear Viktor is not so easily wooed, and his distrust of nobles would only get in the way if I revealed myself yet. I have to earn his trust, first.
Even if it's infuriating to hear his laments without being able to tell him that his desire has already been granted.
Besides which...
If Viktor hears of the truth, he will never accept any further gifts from Ophelia. This much I know for certain.
Even if Ophelia herself meant him no ill, it is the wealth and influence of the Weideman family that gave Ophelia the opportunity to woo him in the first place. He would likely find the thought insulting.
Therefore...he must be wooed before he finds out who is doing the wooing.
But first, the flower response letter. I dash over to the desk to draft my response, my grin splitting my face.
As I write, the fire burning inside me, the flame of my love, grows hotter and hotter. The feelings I feel for Viktor are almost terrifying in how passionate they burn, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path.
But in the end, my ardor is still far less fiery than his devotion to his craft, so I must match him, must show him all I feel for him so he understands the intensity of my affection.
Dearest Viktor,
I could not be happier that you approve of my humble offerings, and in fact it thrills me beyond words to know that my gestures were useful. Your ability to heal others and offer comfort is invaluable and you deserve nothing but the highest of praise for it, but the poor treatment of one so dedicated to helping others leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
The city's residents should not so readily ignore their savior. I fear their pride clouds their eyes to the wisdom your guidance carries.
Still, I am certain that now that they are listening to your voice, their behavior will improve. After all, though there may be stubborn fools amongst them, your tender heart inspires sincerity, even in someone as poor a writer as myself.
To be more straightforward, it is with absolute glee that I read your own kind, careful penmanship and find it the most beautiful handwriting I have ever seen, no matter who put the pen to paper.
I beg your pardon for not sharing my name, although it pains me to keep such a beautiful, wonderful man waiting on my selfish whims. Please believe me when I say that every day my longing to share my identity with you is challenged only by the depth of my trust in your virtue.
May the day of our meeting be soon, my most gentle Viktor, yet not so soon as to ruin the beautiful present moment we both now enjoy.
Ever Yours,
A Secret Admirer
...Naturally, I toss that one, and the next five drafts, before i settle on a longer, more poetic, beautiful one I know my Viktor will be enchanted by. And again, a light spritz of perfume.
This time, when I put the letter in his clinic, I watch from a nearby alley as he steps out of his clinic to retrieve it.
I take great pains to not be caught watching.
It would be embarrassing for him to know I was staring at him with love and yearning so naked on my face, but at the same time, the thrill of catching sight of him, the man I adore, is thrilling and exciting.
As I observe him from the alleyway, the distance and angle gives me an excellent view of the expression on his face as he reads my letter.
That pleased flush as he reads my lines, the bashful curl of his lips as he presses it to his chest.
Even when he tries to school his expression to neutrality, my gaze lingers on the corners of his lips, and the twitch of his eyebrows as he bites his lip to hide a smile.