Cardan's Letters To Jude นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Wide-eyed, I looked up and answered, "Only Jude was privy to these journals. His mother's brother, Uncle Julius, kept his word. He gave Jude what belonged to Jude. Julius shared with others, but only the journals Eve entrusted to him." "May I ask who he shared them with?" "Jude's grandfather. I'm sure Julius feared Jude would never find a mate. Mama made everyone believe that. Out of fear, Julius gave his journals to Isadore. Julius hoped Isadore would find a way to stop Jude from becoming someone neither Eve nor Jude wanted to become. Before Isadore died, he gave them to Melanie's mother, who gave them to Melanie. Melanie loved Jude and tried to use it for her benefit, not to cure him."

It was twirling and tried to entangle into Sonya's palm. "Sonya Duville, we have a destiny that we should complete in this your life time. I am your destiny, I am The Wizard of The Cardinals is calling upon your soul to entangle with my soul...in the power of magic..." Richard Cardinal stared at Sonya who was cowering in her place in front the hinged stone. Next to her, Clayton was bending down.

Jude uttered, taking the wineglass from Anderson. "Oh right," James agreed. "I almost forgot. Katherine or Auntie would have murdered me." "You're welcome," Jude smiled, "I'll get you a glass of regular wine buddy," he faced Anderson with a smug smile. Anderson jeered at him, watching him walk away. Jude stopped at the fruit wine section and picked out a half-empty bottle. He started to take off the cap when he suddenly recalled that he didn't get the careless lady's contact or dropped his. They were supposed to meet and make the switch.

He is getting really impatient, huh. The very second I laid my eyes on it, my brows furrowed instantly. The letter was written in a different alphabet… like a code, and it looks all jumbled for all I know. I felt my head slowly turning side to side trying to figure out what the message could be. “O! Carissimi, paenitemus.” [Oh! My dear, apologies.] Amadeus suddenly exclaimed. He must have noticed my confusion. Right away, he came towards me and placed his hand in front of the paper. “Would you excuse me…”

What did these letters mean? With my heart racing, I went in search of Bernardo to confront him about this secret that had been kept silent for so long. I found him near the stables, taking care of the horses with affection. I approached him, holding the cards in my hands. Me: Bernardo, we need to talk. I found these letters in the attic. They are my father's, addressed to you. Why did you never tell me about this connection between you? Bernardo was visibly surprised and seemed somewhat disconcerted. He let out a heavy sigh before answering.

Locked. My shadows slipped into the mechanism without me having to think about it, feeling the tumblers, finding the right pressure points. Click. The drawer slid open. More letters. I pulled them out, spread them across Kane’s pristine desk surface. Read through each one carefully. Business correspondence. A letter from someone in Lucenia asking about potential trade routes. Another invitation, this one from a Southern Realm lord whose name I didn’t recognize. A receipt for an obscene amount of imported Eastern Realm fabrics.

With that thought, he then names the last few ones of the major arcana of the tarot deck. “The Judgement. The World.” Dropping the facts that the name of the two last cards holds from within. He laughs finally giving in to the desire to somewhat fake a laugh with the dread that comes after such remaining cards. The judgment that they will about to face from this loop, and down unto the last seventh one. The world that they are running into and living from, yet it wasn’t all that they expect from it as it is never been real. As all of them are never been real, but rather are the shard fragments of the originals.

Deacon smiled. “Are you sure? She does not look too happy about it,” Jovita said, looking over at Jessica. “Does it matter? She will be happy about it once we are forever mates,” Deacon chuckled. “What did the letter say that Lestat gave you?” Juno changed the subject. “I forgot about it,” Deacon said, and took the letter out of his back pocket. Deacon took the letter out of the envelope that was already torn and unfolded the letter.

But not like Zane’s. Not new. Not sleek or expensive. Vintage. The leather band is worn in, the face scratched but lovingly polished. It’s old. Loved. Real. And underneath the watch… a letter. No return address. No signature. Just my name on the envelope, handwritten in a way that feels hesitant. Intimate. Like someone who wasn’t sure if they still had the right. I unfold the paper. --- Jude, I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough—not after everything I’ve missed—but I owe you at least this.