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Post by october on Feb 23, 2008 4:06:27 GMT -5
October had been re-alphabetizing the Socialism books when the letter popped in front of her. Curious, she took it from the air and stuck it in her pocket. She shelved the book in her hands and then walked to her desk, unfolding the letter as she did so.
It was almost incomprehensible, and that meant it was from Julien. She studied the scribbled marks that could possibly be defined as handwriting, ignored the crossed out French, and finally was able to pick out its meaning.
“Oh no,” she breathed. Oh, Armand. A panicked hysteria hit, and she pushed it aside. Julien would be close to hysterics, and the Queen and King were not prime examples of level-headedness. Freaking out would not help. But oh my god, Armand.
She scrambled to think of anything she knew that would help. Reading gave her a basic knowledge of medicine, but hardly anything useful if Armand was seriously injured.
She ripped a piece of paper off her desk and hastily scrawled out a letter to the hospital.
Crown prince of the Isle of the Morpheus is critically injured. Maybe. She hoped not. But either way, it would get them there quicker. Send finest doctor, any doctor, ASAP to the castle.
And she signed a rough, masculine Jack Ira on the bottom and sent it off. “Demitri, I’m leaving--- watch things please!“ she called, and then grabbed her jacket and flew out the door.
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