“Letters, your Highness.”
He looked up from his desk and took the small stack from the servant. A nod of thanks and he was alone again.
He was grateful for the distraction. The historical records of old trade records his father had suggested he review were tedious and boring. He needed a break from the heavy work load. Setting the pile down, he started from the top.
The majority were from councilmen. Reports on information he requested. He thoroughly read through them. Each was informative. Numbers and calculations to answer his inquires. He set them aside to discuss with Thaddeus and his father later.
The last one made his heart stop.
His name was scrawled in elegant cursive letters. A moment of hesitation as he admired it.
He knew exactly who this was from.
With a long sticky swallow, he picked it up. He held it for a long moment.
What would he find inside? At this point he didn't know what to expect. His letter had been plaguing him for the last week. He'd been so brutally honest. A result of an entire lunar cycle of sleepless nights. Hazy days. Relentless thinking. Weighing of consequences on the scales of reason. He hadn't be able to sugar coat the reality of the situation. How he wished he was subtle and smooth like Reginald. The letter was a risk that had been fueling anxiety.
Forcing himself to press on, his jittery finger broke the seal.

Many pleasantries Prince John,
I would like to inform you that your letter did find me well, and I hold no ill feelings towards you.
Do not feel guilt or shame for your response to the things I revealed to you. They are large burdens that no being would be able to accept immediately. It is only natural to feel the need to preserve one's self and cling to what is familiar.
I have suffered much of the same. Sanity has eluded me as of late. All of my life I accepted that I was to be solitary and alone. I had come to terms with this fate without resentment. To suddenly find that I was destined to stand beside you for the rest of my days came as quite a shock. There has been much turmoil and restlessness in my soul. For the first time in hundreds of solar cycles, I am disoriented and unsure.
While I find that beginning courtship sounds agreeable, there are reservations in my mind. I will inform you that I have learned to thrive independently over my long life. So I ask for forgiveness in advance if I over step boundaries or offend you in anyway. Please be patient with me. I do not how foreign courting is to you, but for me it is an unexplored concept.
I look forward to your letters and further exploring our pairing during Spring deliberations. If you are unfamiliar with the island, I will happily gather places of interest that we can visit together. I feel the bay would be a good location to begin with. It is by far the most beautiful. The docks and it's food vendors offer a variety of cuisine you may find enjoyable.
In finality, I would like to thank you for your bravery in sending me a letter. I understand it must have been distressing for you. To face ones fears and doubts shows strength in character. I myself could learn from your example.
I wish you bright days and restful nights,
L'Lea

He found himself softly smiling.
A mix of emotions were swirling in his chest.
For being so old, she sounded so innocent and youthful. He hadn't realized she'd been just as overwhelmed with the visions as he was. It surprised him that she'd admitted to feeling unsure of herself.
Unsure? When was an elf ever unsure?
He lightly chuckled to himself. It sounded so contradictory. Re-reading it, he appreciated the honesty and vulnerability that came through.
He moved his pile of business letters to the side. An anxiousness began rising in him as he set hers in their place. He wanted to hear from her again. Hear more of her mind scrawled onto paper. Blank parchment in front of him and fountain pen in hand, words began to fly from his fingers. He tried his best to keep thoughts organized. Ask a decent amount of questions that could satisfy his bits of curiosity.
Half way through the parchment, a bright whistling tune caught his ear. He looked up. Split second later and Reginald was walking through his study door. A leather folder was under one arm and a paper bag clasped in his other hand. His face was bright as he continuing his twittering. He approached his desk. Bag set down on it's corner.
Whistling stopped when they made eye contact. His gaze slowly traveled over his face. A grin began curling at the corner of his lip.
“You're blushing.” He said coyly.
He suddenly noticed the heat on his face. Reginald's eyes flicked down. They settled on her letter. His heart skipped. He reached out to grab it, but he snatched it. He stood from his seat to try and grab it again, but Reginald pranced away from him. He huffed as he watched his eyes skim over the paper. Bracing his fists on his desk, he was forced to wait. Reginald's grin was spreading to his eyes. He looked at him and lifted an eyebrow. His whole facial expression was smug.
“So, you finally wrote her.”
“Yes.” He mumbled.
He re-approached his desk. When he handed it back, he quickly took it.
“Thad owes me a gold coin.” Reginald said lightly as he walked over to his couch.
He plopped down and proceeded to throw his legs over the arm of one end and rest his head against the other.
“He what?” He asked.
Reginald opened his leather folder on his stomach as he spoke.
“Thad owes me a gold coin. We bet and he lost. He has so little faith in you.” He snickered.
He lowered himself back into his seat. He set the letter in it's original place before he watched him thumb through papers.
“You bet? Bet on what?”
“How long it would take you to break down and contact her.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I'm serious. He didn't think you'd have the nerve until we arrived at Thelmnaes. He was so sure your insane jealousy of my acting would make you engage with her.” He replied flatly.
He frowned at him as understanding dawned on him.
“Wait…you weren't truly going to pursue her?” He slowly asked.
Reginald snorted, “Of course not.”
Annoyance flared.
“Then what was your true purpose? Shallow pursuit to bed her?”
“Heavens, no. I couldn't enjoy myself knowing I was pleasuring my brother's future wife. My purpose was as I stated. To make you jealous.” He replied.
Reginald pulled a paper out of his stack and continued to thumb through him. He was dumbfounded.
“What games are you playing, Reggie?”
“No games, just pushing you in the right direction.”
Already he was thinking of ways to strangle him. He groaned in irritation.
“Elder Willowheart is perfect for you. You're just too stubborn to see it. You'd rather argue with something that cannot be moved than utilize the tools given to you.
Lady Fate entrusted you with an incredibly taxing event that will challenge the limits of your humanity. But she has given you an exemplary female to guide and shelter you from your storm. What better choice for a mate than a Seer? An Elven one for that matter, Hm? She will be invaluable.
The only way to get you to come to your senses was to fool you into thinking I'd steal her from you.” He continued.
Humiliated shame filled him. Out witted. By his younger brother.
“You bastard.” He grunted.
“No need to thank me,” Came his chuckle, “Just so you know, I had faith in you. Thad never gives you enough credit. When push comes to shove, you always do the honorable thing, no matter how heavy the consequences.”
That mellowed his temper. Hearing the certainty in his voice reminded him of how grateful he was for his unfaltering loyalty.
“That's why the vision didn't fully surprise me. You always rise to the occasion and incur respect by your deeds, not words.”
A humbling of his heart.
“You give me far too much credit, but thank you.” He mumbled.
Still riffling through papers.
“I give it where it is due. I am an excellent judge of character. Why do you think I excel as an ambassador? It makes Thad so mad that I don't worship the ground he walks on.” He snickered.
“Really?”
“Yes. He is so envious that we confide with each other rather than him and that I hold a higher respect for you.”
He felt unduly honored.
“Truly? He always seems indifferent.”
Reginald paused to glance over his shoulder.
“I swear to Lady Fate, sometimes you are as blind as a bat. This is why you could never be an ambassador. You assume the best in people.” He said, “Thank the gods Father was wise enough to have you deal with financial and trading affairs.”
That irritated him all over again. Reginald went back to his sorting. A delicious smell tickled his senses. His attention was brought back to the paper bag.
“What did you decide on this time?” He asked as he took hold of it.
“Something Elven. Looks like some sort of sandwich? There's an Elven food cart in the Solider's district of the city. I've been meaning to sample his offerings, but never got around to it until now. I figured I'd wet your palette in preparation of being married to an elf. It would behoove you to become familiar with her native cuisine.”
He paused from opening it to shoot him a glare. It was lost on him. Reginald was busy with his papers. Reaching in, he pulled out two warm items wrapped in wax paper.
“When did I become a princess in need of preparation to be wed?” He grumbled to himself.
“Again, no need to thank me.” Reginald chuckled.
He stood and walked over to hand him his sandwich. Reginald traded him for the papers he'd picked out. Before taking his food, he grabbed a fountain pen and slipped it behind his ear. Sandwich in hand, he moved to the plush high back chair next to the couch. Crinkling as they opened their parcels. Reginald spoke through a bite of food.
“The letters I just gave you refer the Satyr tradesmen at the border settlements. It seems there's a convenient little loophole in a trade agreement that the Dwarven metal workers are using to avoid paying interest on copper ore loan purchases under one kilo. They're appealing to us because we both know the Dwarven councilmen would rather chop their beards off than bring the gavel down on their kinsmen. Gods forbid the Satyr parliament be correct.
I had a copy of the particular article they're referring to transcribed. It's at the back.” Reginald sighed.
He thumbed through the small pile until he found the paper. Taking a bite, he chewed on the information as he did his food. He was momentarily distracted by the foreign but pleasant taste on his tongue.
“So it'll need a re-write.” He replied after swallowing, stating the obvious.
“Mhm.”
He took another bite and delved into the fine print.
“Are the Nissé aware of this?”
“Of course. They're taking advantage of it. Dwarven finished smelting products have been rising in price per Kilo. The Nissé are offering better prices for bulk processing of raw to finished goods, with lower interest rates.”
“Supply and demand has been tipping the scales. Not enough Ore is coming out of the border settlements.” He grunted as he chewed.
“So I've been told. Copper used to be the highest export.”
“That's why the Dwarves are trying to take advantage of the over sight.”
Reginald sighed, “I won't hear the last of it when you bring it up for Spring deliberations.”
“They complain all they want, but the border settlements are of Human design. If they want to keep their citizens within the territory, they'll bend.”
“But they also enjoy their minerals and ores,” Reginald added,“That comes above all else.”
“Valid, but to acquire one, you need the other. The Dwarves dug their mountain range dry ages ago. As did the Nissé with their marshes.”
“And they could both be completely diplomatic with the Satyr, but no, humility be damned. Better to have their pride intact than succumb to a wholesome agreement regarding Satyr lava tunnels.”
He huffed a laugh as he crinkled up the wax paper after popping the last bite in his mouth.
“I would not enjoy hammering out those trading agreements.” He mumbled.
“You wouldn't, but you'd do a fine job of them.”
“I'd do a fine job of smashing all their heads into the tables.”
“It would get the point across.” Reginald snickered.
“With their thick skulls? I seriously doubt it.”
Reginald let out a dramatic breath, “Ah, why can't they all be like elves?”
“I don't think that would be any better.”
“Says the man whose going ask one to be his mate for the rest of his life.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Must you keep reminding me?”
“Of course! It tickles me silly.” Reginald hummed in delight.
With a sigh, he sunk further into his chair. Grasping his pen, he removed the cap. Straightened the papers with a flick. He delved into the fine details, printing notes in the margins as they came to him. For once, Reginald remained silent in his company as he worked.