This is my third and final letter regarding your daughter, Quenneth—or "Quen," as she insists everyone refer to her. I must assume your lack of response to my previous letters is a delay in the packet ships. Piracy in the Abecean is rife this time of year.
We at Lillandril Illumination Academy have always been quite clear on our criteria for Quen's matriculation. It pains me to speak so plainly, but you have reneged on your pecuniary commitment to our institution.
Therefore, I am presented with an unwelcome duty. It is our decision to suspend Quen from Lillandril Illumination Academy, effective immediately.
We did not arrive at this decision lightly. There were a number of contributing factors:
The aforementioned lack of financial restitution. As you well know, the academy is not some sail-by-night Breton university. Attendance on credit is strictly disallowed. Were Quen of more noble stock, or had she sought patronage as we assiduously recommended, we could make allowances. Unfortunately she is not, and she did not. To forestall a potential argument, any patron willing to support her at this late stage in her studies would not meet the exacting reputational standards of the academy.
A distinct lack of scholastic interest. Quen has always been an above-adequate student. Though her highest marks have generally come from her acrobatic pursuits, she was never known for absconding from her studies—until this semester. Though given a number of demerits and warnings, Quen did not possess a semblance of focus in her classes. As noted by her professor of rhetoric, she was "constantly tired; detached; made no attempt to conceal her emotional state." When approached about the matter, Quen refused counseling. She insisted nothing was amiss.
Suspicion of larceny, trespassing, and dissembling to academy staff. I'm not entirely sure how to present this, but three estates in Lillandril were burgled within a single week. The sister of our academy bursar is a watch captain, and mentioned that the Lillandril Guard found no sign of an intruder—no forced doors, unlocked locks, or even footprints near the missing items, "as if someone had flown through the air, directly to the jewelry box." Shortly thereafter, Quen approached the bursar with a partial tuition payment. She claimed you sent it to her directly and asked it be applied to her balance. The bursar remembered the conversation with his sister, and also recalled Quen's performance in the inter-academy gymnastic competition of two semesters prior. Thankfully, he reported the matter immediately. Quen maintained her innocence when confronted, but not to the satisfaction of three interviewing professors. It was only the potential damage to our academy's reputation which forestalled the involvement of the Lillandril Guard.
Should you once more see fit to deliver the works of art you had previously guaranteed, we can discuss Quen's potential return. However, an additional three months of silence will convert Quen's suspension to a permanent expulsion.
On a personal note, I urge you to speak directly with Quen about her future. Though her time at the academy is most likely at a close, she is still a capable young Altmer with a future only somewhat diminished. Perhaps she can find a career in our proud Dominion forces, where she can learn to appreciate the simplicity of following orders. A tradesman's work might suit her unremarkable lineage, such as a warehouse worker or seamstress. Whatever her decision, you should be a part of it. Without guidance she may do something rash, such as join a circus.
