[ Left on the doorstep of Mitch's apartment, smelling of iris and amber ]
Keeper of my heart,
'Who?' you're likely wondering. I hardly know how to explain this turn of events myself. I am King Rhy Maresh, ruler of the Arnesian empire. If that means nothing to you, well, I hardly know anything of the world from which you hale. I don't like writing letters - I dictate foreign correspondence to my ambassadors and diplomats and they polish the edges if necessary, but that's typically the full extent of any writing I do. Writing's so... tedious. It lacks immediacy. You send off a letter and then you spend the day waiting, and just so you know, I'm terrible at waiting. But this isn't about me - it's about you. And you strike me as a fellow who cherishes the small gestures, who appreciates the extra time spent, and I cherish you, so, for you, Mitchell Turner, I write the following:
My kingdom is a wealthy one, and one in transition from the old method of expansion and colonization to the new one of allowing our reaches to become self-governing, of opening up mutually beneficial trade routes to those that previously had no voice. I understand that until recently, you were in prison for a multitude of crimes, some manufactured, some truthful. I don't care. The past is the past, and honestly the whole jail thing is kind of a turn-on, which is something I likely need therapy for, but! Moving forward: I know you to be very loyal to your people, which I adore and understand, and I know that you have suffered for them against the backdrop of a world that would have you dead for daring to defy it.
Consider this - you need never want for anything. You could always be well-protected and cared-for. The kingdom of Arnes has many vices, surely, but its people has never known the institution of slavery. All of any colour are welcomed. Writing more plainly, what I say goes and if I say that you're to be showered in gold and paraded around on a palanquin, that'll happen in minutes. Royalty has its privileges, and on a filthier topic of conversation, I'd like to make you my new throne. You can refuse, of course. I would be heartbroken, but I've been heartbroken before and it's not something I can't put away in a wardrobe and take out to deal with later. Your choices will be entirely your own, Mitchell, whether you wish to bear a crown, or stay a cherished friend. I have a kingdom to rule; I don't wish to rule over a lover.
I realize that this love letter has a tone of political alliance to it, but old habits, my darling, die hard, and love takes on many forms. Love is a whirlwind and a fight, and it very, very seldom is enough in this world. I know it to be never be enough. I realise through my reading on your life that you have weathered many storms, but I wanted you to know that these hardships need not be forever. There can be good in your future, and someone who cares. Consider it.
Love,
Rhy
PS: You might be under the impression that I'm a white woman of slight stature with brown hair. That's a trick of Atlantis. Under normal circumstances, I'm a tall man of mixed race (the closest approximation to your home is likely black and Middle Eastern), but more importantly, I'm not just a snack. I am the entire meal.
[ ooc - THREE CHARACTERS EACH have the urge to write love letters today to people. ]