My dearest and only son,
I have a confession to make, and it may shock you. Your uncle feels that I should not tell, but in light of your reprehensible behavior at this evening's entertainment... I know that your father and I should have told you when we first knew. I know how much you loved your father, and we felt you were not ready to recognize him as a vulnerable human man, but that is what he was. Your father was just a man like any other. We felt it would be easier on you if you did not have to watch him waste away in front of your eyes. Loving man that your father was, he thought to spare me as well, and took his brother into his confidence.
It was in your father's will that your uncle and I should wed. He knew you would not be ready to assume the throne right away, and bid Claudius take your place until you are ready. We only thought to give you time to learn the art of ruler-ship: blood is no subside for a keen sense of character. I know you can tell at a glance your friends from the friends of your title, however this is but the first step.
My son, there is a dark side to your father's demise, though it is not what you may have guessed. It is true your father had no peer in his ability to lead his people, but had your uncle waited another month, you would not have recognized the man we all loved. The seeds of madness were in his blood and we had hoped they had not been passed to you. The doctors say that your uncle, a younger man, has time before these seeds take root in him. We had planned to use this time to train you to be king, to wed you to Ophelia, and hope the madness would not breed true. This madness that stirs even now in your blood, I fear, is brought on by the stresses of leadership, and usually appears late in life. Somehow it claimed your father ten years younger than his father, who we killed out of mercy. Your father was not murdered in foul play. I prepared the hemlock your uncle used, that your father might feel nothing in his passing.
Though I cannot imagine how it might be any of your business what goes on in the marriage bed, it is not what you think. Your uncle has been a great comfort to me in the time since your father's death, and I to him. There is no lewdness in our private chamber, only mourning for the man we both loved.
Do you think less of me, my son? Yes I killed your father, and his father, too. While there is no malady of the mind in my family, I have watched you closely from your birth, to ensure that your grandsire's insanity was not passed on to you. A twice-practiced murderess, I was up to the task of bringing an end to your father's pain, but I begin to fear that the task proved too much for your uncle. Your ploy has proved most inappropriate, my son. I now recognize that this is my mistake, but I fear your uncle will not be so forgiving. The madness begins to take root in him, and Sir Claudius may imagine that you conspire against him. My advice to you, my only son: take Ophelia as your bride, and remove yourselves to a safe location, until I can prepare the throne for you. Send to me when my grandson is born, and I will send to you when it is time for you to return. I will send a note to the dear girl through a trusted handmaid of mine, and take her into our confidences. God speed my son, I only hope it is not too late, and that the madness did not breed true.
Much Love,
Her Majesty the Queen, Lady Gertrude.