To have learned to prepare for departures related to campaigns and crusades doesn’t exactly mean that waiting becomes less painful, pushing away the worries and finishing what needs to be done each day becomes the crucial focus, in theory.
The challenge of writing what can’t be put to words in the absence of an irreplaceable someone
The art of writing a Cantiga de Amigo – literally translated to “song of a friend”, a medieval lyric poetry genre, from the Northwest quadrant of the Iberian Peninsula. Distinguished for its female point of view, often depicting how the author misses their loved one (“friend” stands for suitor, lover or husband) who is away.
Such a task is not to be taken lightly, putting fervorous feelings down on paper. Such undying passion can change countries – at least, as long as it burns.
Reading of unbelievable worlds not so far away from where one lives makes one’s curiosity impossible to leave unsolved. And the added pinch of danger always becomes the ultimate ingredient to a bite on mysteries.
Banquets and celebrations, the selected few enjoying the lavish time spending and dynamics at the court, set on the social games and ladder climbing and whatever that implies.
A pleased smile caught in the open, reading the prospects in the room.
Some maladies don’t profile, they simply exist. There is no running away once this one has manifested itself, but you can’t blame anyone from at least trying to outrun it.
Or from the people that are looking to eradicate it.
Who goes there, stealing other people’s first steps on the snow?
The much favoured pass-time of walking on freshly fallen snow interrupted by footsteps hidden from sight on a place that should be deserted were enough to send a shiver up her spine, and this time not from the cold.
But that alone won’t keep this Dame from investigating further and following the footsteps.
A warm welcoming, happy to see her Father back in one piece from a campaign.
No matter the efforts of the maids that carefully combed her hair, a girl’s energy can’t be contained when meeting again with the Father she hasn’t seen for a long while.
The flowers she picked and braided together replace the gold that rests on a King’s head.