Dearest,
Death comes for this hellhole we call home. There was a pale stranger, Elias, he called himself, skulking about the kitchen halls today.
When he saw me, he approached to ask about the prison warden. I directed him to the palace guard. Only hours later, and the servants are whispering about some disaster at the dungeons. It can only be him.
I have an awful feeling. Will you meet me tonight at the teahouse? I could use a warm cup. And your company.
-Yours always, Oyuun