Shielding herself as best she can from the rain, she pressed into the wall of the textile mill and chose a nib.
"A thin one will do best, it must not spill if it's for Lieutenant Jerome's hands."Folding the note, she watched the workers, tied to the fence of the mill as if they were nothing more than frightened cattle.
"This is not the way it should be. Why are we doing this? These citizens did nothing wrong, they are not prisoners, nor Caliban. They are good, honest workers driven to such great need they would take arms and fight. The right thing to do is take up arms alongside them, fight for their right to work ten hour days, and not be treated like chattel.The Fox tending to their wounds made her heart sing, despite the grim situation.
"Rene, my dear younger brother. You grew up so fast and saw fit to share your rations with the workers, I am proud of you, younger brother. Someday you will make a fortunate woman very, very happy." She looked at Charlotte, so intent on taking care of one of the young children there, and wondered if the child minded the stench of tobacco coming from the noblewoman.
Charlotte. Pah. The Falkovnian creature had a point, despite all her hatred and anger. That noblewoman that hides who and what she is from her parents, whom she is supposed to respect and trust. A bed warmer for the Second Lieutenant has no place in my heart, making such a bad example of the officer rank there's no wonder nobles and soldiers alike mock her behind her back.