<div style="text-align: justify;">Elizabeth had not thought about Wylyam’s origins for one second. Even if she had, it would not have mattered to her. The fact that Wil was a bastard - a word she hated, because, as he had said, visited the sins of the father upon the son - didn’t mean anything to her, other than someone had given him a very bad lot in life through no fault of his own. <br/><br/>Before she could protest, though, Wylyam was already speaking his mind. As he shouted, she kept quiet, allowing him to let all of that venom out of his soul. Despite her silence, it was clear Elizabeth was not indifferent. While her lips kept firmly shut, her light blue eyes shed tears at Wil’s pain and frustration. Yet, with the sixth sense of the woman near the man she cared about, Liz knew that he needed to get those words out. And that he was not angry at her.<br/><br/>When Wil finally finished what he had to say and sat on the ground, Elizabeth sighed softly. Rising from the rock where she had been sitting, she limped to where Wylyam was and sat carefully by his side. “Sir”, she started, meekly, “it is not due to your origins that father would not approve of your writing me”. She continued speaking gently,  but without giving him a chance to interrupt. “I lost my mother when my sister Johanna was born. After that, and despite the fact that I was but a child, I took up as much of her care as I possibly could. I became a substitute for mother, as much as I could, and more and more as the years passed. That is why father would not allow me to accept court”. <br/><br/>Pausing, she wiped her tears and then motioned to hold Wylyam’s hands. “Do not ever say that ugly word again, sir. It hurts me deeply”, she pleaded. “It is nothing to do with your origins, as they are not your fault.  My father would not have allowed for any man to write me letters, regardless. But I allow, I want you to”. Feeling her cheeks burn, Elizabeth looked away from Wil for a moment. “If we are to have children one day, they shall be legitimate children, and learn to be honorable and to fulfill their duty, no matter what others think. God, who sees in the hearts, knows who we are, who you are”.<br/><br/>Elizabeth felt her heart tighten in thinking of Wil’s words about not being happy as long as they were apart. “I wish for your happiness, sir”, she murmured, feeling her cheeks flushed again. “And your letters would make for mine. Will you, then, write me?”, the girl inquired, her still bloodshot eyes seemingly even more intensely blue as they peered into the squire’s.</div>