To Your Majesty the Queen,

So let's just jump right into it. Number one, don't you ever ― never, ever ― go MIA on me like that again. I thought I'd never hear from you again, and there's not much more PTS an old timer like me can take. Number two, don't you ever write a letter telling me not to write back until next month and then expect me to make a smart decision such as not writing back until next month, Little Missy. Your whole first letter yelled, "I'm in big trouble and I don't know if I can get out of it," which, to me, foreshadowed an assassination at the hands of Prince Aloysius, King Ragnar, Prince Hans, or any one of those terrible excuses for human beings.

I seriously thought that you were writing from either a prison tower or some type of locked closet. Bursting a blood vessel was the least of my worries. You had me stuck between what I wanted to do and what I had to do, because my daughter is not someone I can just up and leave, but in my mind, my wife's second flesh and blood was about to be murdered. So, as of right now, my knuckles and wall are still recovering, but I've recovered enough to finally sit down, finish your letter, and respond to you without using inappropriate language. This is actually my fifteenth time rewriting this in all of one day, but I think I can stay calm for this one. Booze helps.

Just as you foresaw, I'm not shocked by any of Prince Maniac's media stunts. I most definitely saw this subplot coming from a million kilometers away. He's as quick as a hare; I'll give him that, but the information you gave me about other kingdoms attacking my marriage is another reason for the dents in my wall. No foreign ambassador or king has ever written to me asking about how I'm doing, what I'm feeling, if I can even make it to the end of the day anymore, or what my mornings look like, yet they claim to have all this insight into my "griefless conscience."

Hardly anyone ever got to know me before Rapunzel died, so what gives any of these people the right to talk about my marriage and play with my life like it's not real?

Am I real or ever going to be real? Do they even have a conscience? Have they ever thought for one second that maybe what they're doing is not just "moralless" and "griefless," but excruciating? And if they have, why is it okay to everyone else who's just standing around watching it happen? Someone needs to explain to me why it's such a popular pastime to assassinate people's characters and hit them where it hurts without even knowing who they are, because everywhere I look, people are painting me out to be this bad person or unfit king who's to blame for everything, and it's driving me insane.

Yes, I haven't done everything correctly, but their words aren't making anything better. It's like the whole world is saying people can't escape a certain image even when they're trying to do the right thing. I'm always going to be the "illegitimate orphan with the thief rep" to them. Before I go any further, let me say that I'm really sorry for going off like this. That whole rant was unpremeditated.

I don't want to transfer stress by stressing you out with my stress. I shouldn't let this get under my skin so openly. Me complaining is inappropriate and self-absorbed, but some part of me wanted to finally let that out to somebody somewhere. I'm also sorry for dragging you into this mess, Elsa. Neither you nor Rapunzel should be in anyone's mouth. All of these bashers humiliating my wife, vilifying me, spitting on my marriage, and degrading you better be glad that I can't get my hands on them.

Printing artwork of us kissing is taking "Freedom of Speech" way too far, and if it hasn't been stopped, then I'll put an end to it. Trust me, Aloysius isn't the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve. I don't know how you're standing up to all this shaming as a woman, but you're a brave one for doing so. You're probably feeling a lot more shaken up than you're letting on, but I'm definitely just as sickened by it as you are. The whole idea of people thinking I want to be with you is as upsetting as it is nauseating.

Not to say that you're nauseating by any means! That's completely not what I meant. You're very attractive! It's just that you're my wife's cousin, for crying out loud! Speculations about infidelity are speculations I need to publicly clear up in a way that I hope you'll be able to help me with, because Corona will take them much harder than the foreigners did if our access to the world ever opens back up.

My track record with women has occasionally haunted me, but these days, it's a political flytrap. Not too long ago, one of my ewerers decided she wanted to run with a horror story that almost tarnished my reputation even further in my own kingdom. But enough about my problems in Corona. What I'd like to know is how, when, and what I could ever be "jealous" of in that prince's warped little mind?

Is it his insanity? The absolute lack of human decency? The heartlessness? Or is it just his irresistible, sociopathic personality? Because I do know that I despise every fiber of his miserable being, along with any body part of his that might be in stomping range.

Your whole report on Aloysius was terrifying, and what he needs is a straitjacket. I was going to ask you if he could actually learn or use magic, but I strongly believe that he would've made a love potion by now if that were the case. I know you're not looking for my approval in any shape or form, but I'm telling you right now that I don't approve of you spending a whole month in the Southern Isles with him and his siblings. Let's just forget about protocol for a second; you had a choice. Investigation or no investigation, you would've been much better off making an ambassador take care of it.

A plan that requires you to put yourself on the line on their turf for a whole month could've gone downhill real bad, real fast. It doesn't matter if you know their strategy; you girls were not holding all the cards in that situation. Please don't mistake my concern for disrespect. I applaud your sister's stealth and admire how well you pulled this off with so much grace. You were amazing, no doubt, but this is no way to keep my blood pressure from going through the onion dome.

I keep thinking about the worst possible thing that could've happened and it overshadows all the things that didn't. I'm about to ask you a question that might feel awkward to answer, but I want you to give it to me straight before we go any further than we've already gone:

Would you have agreed to this engagement if you weren't doing it for me? I know you said you wanted to get closer to the kingdom's secrets, but if we're being honest, you wouldn't have needed to use their own corruption against them just to get out of a wedding you could've turned down from the beginning. Turning it down would've made things rockier between you, the Storting, and the Southern Isles; I'll be the first to agree with that, but what you've been doing since April is a billion times rockier. We've obviously developed something here ― "indebtitude," a friendship, call it whatever you want ― but I never asked you to put your life on the line for me.

Don't "reexamine" Hans or his brothers. Don't go to King Kasimir to ask about his family life. Don't emancipate Aloysius. Don't give King Ragnar the opportunity to get a hold of you. Let me take care of them from this point on.

Everything you've explained to me about King Ragnar and his ways are monstrosities I've already seen a preview of. They're a cold-blooded species, Elsa. I warned you about that. It runs in their DNA. How those roots came about is not our business.

While I can see what you're getting at about Hans's rehabilitation, would I have felt sorry for him if I saw him? No. However, I think you do. I don't think it's just about right or wrong for you. I also think you've felt sorry for Prince Aloysius since June.

Whether the feeling was brief or sporadic, you have a soft spot for Aloysius, don't you? Is that only because you can't help but feel compassion for "fallen people," or did some part of you hesitate much longer than you thought it would when he worshiped your powers? The way you're reliving it and reassuring yourself of what you felt makes me think it took a long time for you to come to your final conclusion about his treatment of you. It took me even longer to come to a similar one, so I'm not diminishing you; being liked for something I was good at or how I looked used to be better to me than not being liked at all. You still got the hint a little faster than I did, and I am proud of you for applying logic to it.

Idolization is objectification, and it's a lot lonelier to be the object of someone's affection over a real, whole person meeting them on their level. I never wanted Rapunzel to feel like I defined her by her hair, her powers, or her tiara for that very reason; she doesn't need magic or tiaras to make her special. It takes the "human" part away, or more importantly, the "Rapunzel" part… .. . … . ..

Although I hate to say it, I think you had to experience a so-called "love" like Aloysius's to get a sample of that cheap brand. The next time someone comes along who isn't interested in you because of your powers, your crown, or their definition of "perfection," you'll know that he's the better option because he won't be treating you like you're made out of magic. To that guy, you'll have cells, organs, and blood running through your veins. You'll just be "Elsa." I'm going to take a leap here and say that your relationship with your sister has already taught you that.

I just want to make sure you're not holding the door open by two inches for Aloysius because some tiny little morsel of you wonders if that's as good as it'll ever get for you in your situation as an unmarried queen. Am I out of line again? Because I want this to be wrong. After all, I could be thinking more about how I was than how you are, so don't feel obliged to respond to that if I'm wrong. By the way, I'm not convinced by Aloysius's "cries for help" or Hans's labor field circumstances.

Aloysius could be playing on your empathy. Whether you see it or not, he's getting into your head. You already know how much of a performance Hans can put on, so I'm sticking to the fact that the Kiribas are the only people I should feel sorry for, and so should you. It's not anyone's job to save them except them. Even if you think the only maestro here is King Ragnar, (which I don't) don't go inviting trouble by looking into it again; you've done enough.

I find it very interesting how everyone's on deck with helping Kiriba refugees at the drop of a hat yet don't mind ostracizing us. You should also probably consider the predicament your heavy involvement could put you and Arendelle in. Providing for them is the right thing to do, but is it the smart thing to do? Corona is sucking up your time, health, energy, and finances as a kingdom. Will the Kiriba situation just add another load to where the Storting will fight over "which load" should be dropped first?

That brings me to your "Volunteer Act." Believe me, it was helpful. I didn't expect the volunteers to be boatfuls of doctors; I was even more surprised when they told me that they chose to live here despite knowing they couldn't return home under the Storting's ban. I don't know how you got the Storting to make that deal, but whatever you did, I'm happy (and nervous) about you doing it. Don't worry so much; you did well beyond "good," Elsa. (You always do, don't you?)

The cargo was a big help, too; thank you for convincing the East to contribute. The people who stayed are making big sacrifices and we can't repay them enough. We still have a major shortage of staff members, but you persuaded some of the finest physicians on the continent to tackle Rugen on the strength of your letters, so that's a big step towards improvement. Your volunteer plan has proven to Coronans that the world isn't overrun by greedy politicians and heartless gossipers after all.

Consequently, Abelard isn't so quick to open his mouth about you anymore these days. My ministers like you a whole lot more than they like me right about now, too. To get to the point: thank you. I need another phrase for "thank you," but I'll say it again anyway: thank you. You've been Corona's backbone.

I really have to cut the rest of this letter short, but I won't end it without clearing up some other misconceptions you have. The law of succession in Corona isn't going to spare Isolde. After I'm dead, the parliament will try to exploit my daughter the same way yours is trying to exploit you. The royal bloodline only has three women left: you, Anna, and Isolde. Someone has to add legitimate heirs to the family tree.

But as long as I'm alive, I'm going to have an ongoing fight with betrothals in the name of politics, so it doesn't matter if I marry you or not. I was never asking you to marry me in the first place. I was just doing the math in my head, and that was one of many quintic equations I thought I had crossed out. (And FYI, I'm terrible at math, so you lost me when you started talking about nomes and whatnot)

Brushing all of that under the rug, Isolde will get better. That's not an opinion; that's a fact. My daughter won't grow up living her life like a quarantined patient. I'll make sure of that. As for you, Elsa...heed what I said.

From Corona,
XII of September, 1848
Thanking you for all of your kindness and support,
Eugene

P.S. No, I couldn't live with it. But there wouldn't have been much to live with if it was loveless.