My dearest friend and Captain,

I hope that you will forgive my presumption in sending you those gifts, but I also pray that you will consider them a mark of my high regard. I have come to hold you in great esteem, and wish to do all that I can to secure your comfort and happiness, without interfering too much in your affairs. I know you are a capable individual, and all that you need you will obtain for yourself, but please allow me the honour of bestowing these small tokens upon you when I am able. The cloak was made with my own hands, and with each thread of the needle I wove a prayer for your contentment and safety. The gifts I bestow upon true friends are not lavish, but they come from my heart.

You need not answer to me on the matter of religion, my dear. I thank you for calling me pious, but in truth I am merely a humble servant of the wise Athena, and all the Gods. Your parents sound like wonderful people, and I have no doubt that your mother's patron God, as well as the diligent Athena and noble Ares, shall watch over you in battle. Though you are right to assume that we may not know how, or if, they will affect the outcome of the fight, the Gods are ever-present, lying in wait to cast their cloak of protection over us should they deem it necessary. Such an answer could never displease me. On the contrary, I think it well that you hold your mother's God in as high an esteem as your father's deities. You honour both your parents, and I honour you for that. Your ritual has not failed you thus far, and so I beg you to proceed with it.

I write this missive as I journey to Athenia, for my plans have changed. A great market is to be held there, where merchants will come from all three kingdoms to sell their herbs and spices. I intend to purchase them to flavour the food I prepare for the poor, and to concoct remedies for the ailing, aged and expecting mothers. As well as this, our dear Rene has opened up her house to me, which will give me an opportunity to meet her family at last. But that is not my only reason for going. You may recall in a previous missive that I spoke of Master Panos of Marikas? In Colchis, I paid a visit to him at the Thanasi estate, where he was being hosted. I did so at my father's bidding, for my father has put me in a very undesirable position. Rumours have surfaced that the Marikas may be stealing Condos recipes, and that their province of Messaly thrives on our secrets. Indeed, it has often been jested that this particular province is more Taengean than Athenian in nature due to its lush and bountiful vineyards. Unsatisfied by my meeting with Master Panos, my father has bid me visit Messaly to continue my investigation.

But Messaly is the farthest thing from my mind. I wish, my dear, that I could divulge all to you. Had I no fear of judgement, I would. I have committed no crime, yet many would say that my mere thoughts are a crime against nature. Perhaps, like Gianna, you already suspect what secret it is that I hide, or perhaps you are blissfully ignorant of the fire that burns within me, scorching my heart. Your confession about your poor girl and her cousin makes me certain that you trust me, yet I would not wish to lose your friendship for the world. Therefore, I will ask you now, may I speak frankly on a subject that has been the dearest thing to my heart for over ten years? And will you, as I shall about all you have told me, swear to keep your silence, for my very reputation will depend upon it? I pray you, burn this letter upon its reception, for although nobody on my end will bother to read it, we do not know if your men can be trusted not to indulge their curiosities.

A pegasis is probably the next con on his mind; I shall have to keep a close eye on him upon my return to Taengea. The girl, however, seemed more than happy to abandon all thoughts of him when I arrived, she even asked me to help her pick out a name for her doll and I spent a rather pleasant afternoon in the company of her family. There is another such vivacious spirit on the vessel I travel in, a youth of eight who sings as she sews and invites me to sit with her as she bends over her work. She is a sweet thing and her mother has given me permission to correspond with her after the festival ends, privately confiding in me that a penpal as distinguished as myself might help her improve her grammar and penmanship.

My heart aches for this girl and her cousin. Raised in isolation, with only criminals for tutors, how could they have become anything other than what they are? They cannot be held accountable for their actions, for they have never been taught the difference between right and wrong; there is, and always has been, an utter absence of morality in their family. What these girls need is an example of goodness to look to, a true role-model. I think it wise that you separate them from their villainous relations. If anyone can guide them out of the darkness and into the light, it is you. And, should you choose to marry this girl, you will both have my complete support. I wish you well in your endeavour; I will pray for the three of you. 


Your loyal and faithful friend, 
Ophelia