The strangest thing has happened. I promised to take care of The Rusty Tap in your absence, and I have. No one can say I haven't. And if they do, let me know who is running their gob and I'll take care of it. Instead of the usual pumpkin heads that gather in the tavern, lately, I've noticed more and more unaccompanied fine-lookin ladies. One has struck a bit of a deal with me. She says if I pay them no mind, and don't scare off the male patrons with my fists and harsh words, she'll pay me a bit of coin each week. You always said that I had a head for business, and so I've accepted the deal, as I believe you would have yerself.
p.s. They say I need a bit of a makeover. What do ya think?
Dearest and Darling Hellenora,
The days that go by without being with you are surely no less dark than the blackest of starless nights. I burn for you more than a flame burns a log to ash. I do not confess to know how we could be together, you a noble lady and me a stable master. But I pray that someday our love can be known.
P.S Though I have not received a response to my letters since our trist, I expect you are far too busy with the man in fancy robes I’ve seen escorting you through town. I should warn you, I’ve heard talk among some of his servant staff regarding gruesome punishments.
My Dearest Hellenora,
Your eyes glimmer like the jewels on my rings. And I adore your laughter, even when you are just trying to appease the new garden boy – his jokes are not very good, but you are so polite.
I love you more than a rose loves its petals.
P.S. I have noticed a very strange taste in my soup. I’m sure it’s the cook misusing the herbs. I shall see that she is dismissed and punished in the morning if I am feeling well enough; I’ve had the most terrible headaches as of late.