First Draft of the Revolution

Deceiving a husband of magic-using rank is not without risk. Juliette has been sent away for the summer to a village in the Alps above Grenoble — a few houses, a cold lake, blue sky, and no company worth having. She writes to her husband daily. She tells him about the mud, the drafts, the extravagant new gloves, how much she misses Paris. When a letter is ready, she copies it onto enchanted paper whose matching counterpart sits in his study hundreds of miles away; no courier needed. The words she chooses very carefully.