Dear Elsa,

Boy, have I been waiting to get a letter like this. Uncut, unrehearsed, and unabashed. I got all fuzzy inside for a minute or two of savoring heartfelt confessions combined with lukewarm sass. Paragraph eight especially cheered me up after the second scolding. Where've you been hiding all this time?

No, but really — all (regrettably inappropriate) jokes aside — thank you. I needed it. This, I mean. I was scared, too. For both of us, actually. I was completely terrified.

I did everything in my power to hide my anxiety from your prime minister, who seemed to very much want a love confession out of me any way he could get it, but off-page, I was in shambles. You don't send a letter like that to someone and not include every detail entrusted to you. The imagination can conjure up all sorts of nightmares in the meantime, and I've had enough of those to last me a lifetime. Your latest letter might not give me the closure I need, but getting a response from you personally does wonders for my insomnia.

To make a long story short, I'm glad you're alright, Elsa. I really am. I can't even tell you how much, because I thought I had killed you. I thought, "my wife's cousin is about to die because of me." That's when I remembered that I'm the one who's supposed to be protecting her family, not the other way around.

Last year, I swore I wouldn't pile my duties onto your crown, but Corona was left in the dark over what really felt like my name, and that has been a bitter pill to swallow all by myself. I couldn't tell if I had been permanently stopped from ever contacting you again because of it, if my first carrier pigeon didn't make it, if the Storting had codified a second ban, or if you and Anna were even alive anymore. Then September "happened," and sitting in the dark with four walls around me just became a part of my life...or what's left of it, anyway.. .

Tonight, I'm not in that head space anymore, and I most certainly don't want you to be. I can and will promise you that I won't be dying from any fever, famine, or tabloid anytime soon, so don't you worry about me, Little Lady. This mangy old O'Malley still has seven lives left. And, if it's not too much to ask, he would also like you to tell him what you need from him beyond mere respiration. That is, if you could ever need anything from him; it's been starting to read like you're the knight in shining armor in this story.

...And he should probably tell you that he did sweep the floor with that abominable snowman you sent the second it came hopping into his study like a leprechaun on opium. Bopped him on the head, locked the door, and haven't looked back since. I literally have no idea where the bugger went, but I know he's still in there somewhere, so I've sort of been sleeping with the chair against the door. I'm not trying to be picky or anything, but do you have a less creepy spy in mind? Perhaps one without a madman's grin? (I highly applaud you for breaking the rules to reach me, though; your "way" of doing it was simultaneously scary and creative)

Before I get too sidetracked, I know I mainly have to explain why your ship came back to Arendelle without us on it. That should've been the first thing I talked about, but my thoughts and feelings are terribly out of order tonight. By now, Captain Haugen should've told you what I asked him to in so many short, grumbly words, but I need to elaborate on what he might've left out. I did heed your warning about banned messengers, but just know that a sailor named Fredmund volunteered to get this letter to you if I wrote it in time. Because we're short on that, I'm just as desperate as you are to take any opportunity that comes my way.

So here it is with a headnote:

I'm not resisting your order, but there are two obstacles that I wish we could've discussed before we got into the tight conundrum we're in now:

1) Isolde can't make a 20+ hour trip to Arendelle by sea. My daughter is a year old, and she still needs accommodations that a winter sail can't ensure. At the very worst, she could die. Here in Corona, she has a safety net. Our citizens are struggling, but Isolde and I are the most fed and protected people in the kingdom. After all, she won't be riding out onto the Golden Bridge to stop an altercation between guards and orphans like her father did; she can't leave the palace until the outbreak ends.

2) In the event that I have no choice but to send Isolde to Arendelle, I would essentially choose to live in Corona. Here's where I'm going to ask you to try and put yourself in my shoes by standing where I'm standing. If I leave the people of Corona at the height of blight, they'll take my departure as abandonment. I'll take that as my abandonment. As you've already acknowledged, abandoning someone is the worst crime you could ever commit when they need your presence like they need a reason to live. Rapunzel's father once told me that a king's job is to stand in the storm with his people.

Isolde doesn't have to, but I do. And unless I do, their spirits will be broken beyond all repair, and they'll feel and be even more alone than ever before. /T/h/e/ /k/i/d/ /i/n/ /m/e/ /a/l/r/e/a/d/y/ /k/n/o/w/s/ /w/h/a/t/ /t/h/a/t/ /f/e/e/l/s/ /l/i/k/e/. I'll basically be the king everyone expected me to be, which is a runaway rogue.

. .. .I'm truly horrified by what I just said as well as my decision to seriously go through with this, but a different choice might haunt me more than I already have been, so there's no turning back now. My hauntings won't stop at Arendelle. /T/h/e/ /n/u/m/b/e/r/ /o/f/ /f/a/c/e/s/ /I'/m/ /s/e/e/i/n/g/ /a/t/ /n/i/g/h/t/ /w/i/l/l/ /o/n/l/y/ /g/r/o/w/. I hope you can find it in your heart of hearts to respect my decision and understand my position as the wise woman you are. And for what it's worth, you're not as "hatable" as you keep telling yourself you should be. Why you think you should be is beyond me, but I'm here to tell you that you're not, unfortunately, so please get that thought out of your mind.

If we're being completely honest here, I'm the one who's disposal. I keep thinking it's my fault that the press used you as their chew toy over what I should be capable of fixing. The fact that you could've died last year makes me feel guiltier. .. .

I truly, truly don't want to cause you anymore physical, mental, or emotional harm, Elsa, but you absolutely could've walked away from this if you absolutely had to. When you got sick, you absolutely should've. Apparently, you absolutely won't, and that's as respectable as it is troubling for me to sleep with. I don't know how much more you can do for us, but . . . I really do feel grateful for what you tried to do and did do even when things were getting worse for you where you are. I just wish you didn't feel this unhealthy need to sacrifice yourself.

Someday, I'll be in the position to make up everything to you and Arendelle. I just don't know when or how. It would feel so completely amazing to say that this letter to you won't be my last, or how positively sure I am that this is just another pothole in a never-ending road of setbacks. But I can't. And that's...

Incredibly hard to soak in.

But please stay safe.

From Corona,
III of March, 1848
Eugene

P.S. I just have one more concern: Prince Aloysius. Are you officially engaged to him or not?