It was I, loyal cook Edric, who killed our dear Lady Weatherleah. She planned to meet sweet Pelena Weatherleah for tea, but I tainted her favorite blend, ginger and hibiscus, with a foul poison.
The same poison I’ve taken as I write this letter, for I cannot bring myself to see an imposter play at our dear, late Uriel. A curse on that rogue.
Despite doting on her every need, Lady Weatherleah never saw me as more than a lowly servant. Now I join her in the great, dark, cold beyond.
