Work Text:
The letters have been coming for days. The tray holds a new parchment each morning with the breakfast spread. They’re a mix of sentiments.
Some are minor missives, detailing nothing more than the mundane trials and tribulations of the day in the life of my love. Others hold more elaborate sentiment, feelings expressed with a flurry of swirling penmanship. He is away, and yet he writes, systematically, without obligation and merely to ensure I know how he is and that he thinks of me.
Few in the kingdom can boast of a more attentive suitor. I found my Prince Nicholas.