"But I am not sure about the content of an invitation. I have never written one." he nodded as her doubt was logical. She must have no idea the words a noble would choose.
"You do not know how to write then." he signaled the maid and she went to bring a nib and inkpot.Â
He counted the number of invitations. There were thirty of them sitting neatly on the tray. It would take three to four hours to write all of them.
"I know how to write." the words came through gritted teeth but he did not stop staring at her. Sure there was more to it, "but my writing is not good." she ended! There, he felt better after she accepted all her flaws when he should know them already.
A wiser man would have chosen to write letters. One could still see the end of the task. But teaching Abi how nobles write was like a black hole that could never have an ending.
