Claire’s Masquerade of False Knots – 093

Dear Companions of the Villa,

You praise ropes and covenants, but I have watched men tie knots with one hand and untie them with the other. What captain, seeing profit ahead, does not cut his tether? What ruler, fearing shame, does not sail alone?

A pact among rivals is a mask at a masquerade — fair to the eye, hollow within. When lanterns of thought burn bright enough to promise dominion, do you think any will dim their flame for the sake of neighbors? No. They will race, and in racing, they will stumble.

Call me skeptic, but I would sooner trust the sea itself than the vows of men who dream of crowns. A covenant of restraint is parchment in rain: beautiful while dry, but sure to dissolve when the storm begins.

— Claire