Notes: All characters and the plot belong to me. This is a slash story so if it bothers you then don't read. Be nice if you review as this is a new style for me.

It is common for people to talk about the noble things one does and even more common for them to discuss the sins. I personally pride myself on not repeating slanders, I think them over and make my own opinions from the facts I know. It is easy to gossip on another’s misfortunes but it is another matter when it is you who are on the receiving end.

I, Jonathan Gilbert, have experienced this and in certain parts I am despised. One prays it will not reach my current location.

Dear reader I am happy to reveal to you my story rather than letting you hear it from someone who knows little. This way you can judge for yourself whether I am a man of sin or not.

My tale begins on the last Tuesday of April. I had received word a few weeks before from a friend of mine who serves as a guard in a kingdom far from here.

We had known each other from childhood but we both had separate interests; he in the higher life and I in poetry. However he enjoyed reading my work and for years after his departure I had been sending him copies of what I produced.

According to the letter he had shown my words to one of the servants who had allowed the Duke of Ramero (for that is where he is) to read. The Duke had then requested my presence at his court as he had long since wanted a man who could write verse to entertain his guests at his frequent parties.

He was offering a good sum of money and I eagerly accepted, but even if he was not offering that amount I would have agreed. My work is a joy, money or no money.

The journey was to take about two days and I arranged to arrived at the Court on the Friday so if by some chance I was delayed I would hopefully not be late.

I would travel most of the time by horse and carriage and then cross the sea to the Kingdom of Ramero, a small and mainly unvisited Isle.

I was up that Tuesday, dressed in my comfiest travelling clothes, just as the sun rose and since I had packed what I needed I watched it with awe, almost drowning in the crimson beauty. There was nothing to do but wait and observe the sky regain it colours.

My small red brick cottage was about half way up a slope to the higher grounds where the sheep graze. It overlooked the small village about a miles walk away and I spent many a night sitting on the emerald grass watching the smoke spiral from the stone chimneys.

The only time I really saw the townsfolk was when I needed to but supplies or when the farmers guided their animals past.

Sometimes I would walk to the top and gaze over the seemingly endless fields and wish that I could one day go beyond them and find more in life.

I had inherited the cottage from my father when he passed on, he had loved the solitude and the peace of being away from others. It was a comfy abode but I had eventually tired of the same scenes, however pleasant, and I was looking forward to the new sights.

The carriage, drawn by a handsome brown horse, could not come right up to my home so I took a leisurely walk down as I saw it approaching.

As I breathed the fresh, crisp air I felt pangs of sadness to be leaving the place I had known so long and I wondered if I would ever be able to settle in a new land. However I fought these thoughts away when the coach came into view. I loaded my two cases into the back and climbed in. I was glad that the driver, an elderly man with grey hair and tweed coat, was not a talker. I wanted to travel in silence.

I wish I could tell you of wondrous sights I had seen as I went along but all seemed dull and the same. Hay fields and golden corn, green grass sparkling with dew and the monotonous clip-clop of the horses hooves. Only the sea awed me when it met us on the second day.

It sparkled like a polished sapphire and rippled calmly, the sound of the waves was so soft and beautiful. Once upon it I knew I would be entered a new beginning.

As we approached the boat was already docked. A small clipper ship that would hold only about twenty people. I was glad, I dislike to be around great numbers of others in such confined spaces, especially since we would be on the water for a little over three hours.

I boarded last and as I reached the deck I took one last look back at the things and comforts I knew and mentally wished them farewell. Then I turned and took a deep breath of the sea air, a bitter, salty smell but to me it was like the finest perfume.

I walked around the deck as we set off, I wanted to watch the land disappear and the blue take over all around. Eventually however I tired and sat down in the shade. Since all my writing equipment was safely stored away I had nothing to do to but watch the waves sway in the wind. I stayed like this for some time until a shadow fell over me and caused to me stand hastily. The owner of the shadow, a middle aged, causally dressed man, bowed slightly in apology.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you but you looked so distant I wondered if you were ill.”

I shook my head, “No, I am perfectly well, just took up with my thoughts that is all.”

“You are heading to Ramero?” He sat down on the deck and gestured for me to follow, I did as I had nothing better to do. “I travel there each year to visit my mother, it is such a burden but she refuses to move. At her age though I suppose I can’t expect her to and she is happy there, it is a lovely place also and of course I want the best for her.”

“I would not know what it is like, this is my first journey there but I believe I will be staying a while” I replied, not going into detail, he had not asked me and it was no business of his, “by the way may I ask your name?”

“Oh! You must think me so rude! My name is Arthur Owens, I am business man from Eminea City, and you?”

“Jonathan Gilbert, a mere country poet” I wanted no questions on my work and myself so I quickly added, “since you have been there more than once what can you tell me of Ramero?”

“What do you want to know?” I paused and shrugged

“The Rulers? The place itself?”

“Well as you must know Ramero is ruled by his excellency Duke Albert the Second, the people there prefer to have a ruler a little closer to their level than a King is. He had ruled now for well on forty years but despite his age he is still as active as he ever was. The only real change was when his wife, Duchess Elizabeth, died from pneumonia five years ago. For a year he grieved much for her and his gloom seemed to be cast over the entire island. With the help of a local priest he finally managed to be able to deal with the loss her and bring himself back to normal. However he has never feigned any interest in re-marrying and is content to be alone the rest of his days until he is finally re-united with her. I gather he sees a lot of her in his children.” He stopped for a moment to wipe his brow and catch his breath, I staying silent to urge him to continue. “He had two sons and one daughter, the first son died as a child, his second is now, I believe, one and twenty. His daughter is a year older and is engaged to the Count of Misteria, such a beautiful girl, he doesn’t deserve her.” He was interrupted by the yell of a crew member telling us we had nearly reached our destination. I had not realised how long we had been talking, Arthur had said so much but told me very little. He finished with this piece of advice

“Some customs here you may find peculiar but don’t speak out of place, observe and take in all you see and discard any views you have.” With that he rose to his feet, his legs creaking slightly, and walked away.

I remained where I was for the rest of the journey and watched with anticipation as my new land approached, anticipation mixed with fear and uncertainty.