The Drachen's Iron Heart

To My Lady Scientist

In which Genevieve attempts to woo (the Lady Scientist)

(In the days before the meeting with Anna and Her Royal Highness, Genevieve could be seen scribbling furiously in various rooms of the chateau. Below is a piece of crumpled paper recovered from a vase in the front parlor.)

To my Lady Scientist with roughen’d hands,
thy visage will be missed like spring rains to parched lands.

Your lips like sun-kiss’d rubies; my own remain bereft.
Remembering the softness of your beauty and the sweetness of your cleft.

MERDE. Andre always made zis poetry thing look so easy!

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