Christine has been laid low with a summer cold almost since we arrived in Riom, and if she is not better soon there will be a chorus of sniffling to accompany the droning of the priest. I should also hate to think that her last few weeks of freedom before her own wedding will be spent as an invalid.
Andre and Mattieu are both eager to be of service for the event, and I cannot remember when I last spent so much time in the company of both of my brothers. My stepfather, on the other hand, is as cold and distant as I expected, and we have exchanged few words.
Thierry, dear as ever, is my solace against every aggravation, and as the King has given his consent, at long last we have every hope of enjoying singular happiness.