A letter addressed to Ms. Bietrix Sweetmeadow written in a hand rich with bold flourishes. Its envelope's broken seal bears a rose encircled by the motto: TO MAKE CHASE WHILE THE SUN IS STILL HOT IN THE SKY.
Dear Ms. Sweetmeadow,
I hope you are enjoying the gift I gave you last time we met—you wore it well in the Chetwood and I hope you are still wearing it, now that you have examined it for yourself in the mirror. It must surely be a new fashion to you, but I hope you enjoy it—even if that enjoyment must be in secret. If you have any doubts as to my intentions, know that it was given as a token of my affections and a marker of how well I like you. I like you well, Ms. Sweetmeadow—know that such gifts are not so freely doled out.
I hope your temper has cooled, though another part of me hopes it has not if through anger you will overcome any shyness and doubt still lingering within you. I like the boldness in you, darling, and I like rousing you to competition—especially when I win. Better do I like beating you in a duel of tongues, as skilled and eloquent as yours is. Know too, Ms. Sweetmeadow, that I cannot forget the sweet taste of the drink you gave me in the forest, and writing this now I am parched—eager to have my fill.
I do hope you are well. If you desire to see me again soon, I shall be hunting again in a couple weeks’ time—you will know the details closer to the date itself. Know, however, that I shall not be hunting mere conies, but rather much fairer game.
In all his splendour,
A. Hazelwood
