To Twilight Sparkle,
First and foremost, Trixie thanks you for your assistance in securing her freedom! While Trixie maintains that she was entirely innocent (except, perhaps, for accidentally walking out with those sunglasses, but that's beside the point), she recognizes that without your intervention, she might still be stuck in that awful cell, eating questionable prison gruel and listening to Celestia mutter nonsense about "the endless pursuit of hooves."
Which brings Trixie to her next point: Twilight, Celestia is not well.
Trixie has seen many things in her life—many strange, many terrifying—but nothing has unsettled her quite like watching the former ruler of Equestria pace the length of her cell, wearing a blanket like a royal cape, whispering what Trixie can only assume are the final, broken thoughts of a mare unraveling at the seams.
At one point, Trixie tried to offer comfort. She approached Celestia and said, "Do not fear, Trixie is sure Twilight will find a way to help you soon."
Celestia only laughed.
It was not a normal laugh, Twilight. It was the laugh of a mare who has stared into the abyss and found that the abyss is wearing a thong.
She then grabbed Trixie's hoof, stared directly into Trixie's soul, and whispered:
"The slap… it draws closer."
Twilight, please tell Trixie you are working on a way to help her. Celestia has gone from "unjustly accused fugitive" to "wild-eyed doomsayer awaiting her inevitable fate." It is deeply unsettling.
Also, on a completely separate yet equally concerning note—have you heard from Luna?
It has been days since her last letter, and Trixie does not like the implications. The last we heard, she was trapped in some kind of unholy Costco beyond time and space, being watched by cursed corndogs.
Has she escaped? Has she sent word? Is there even still a Luna to save?
Please respond soon, Twilight. Trixie cannot handle this much existential dread in one week.
The Freed and Slightly Traumatized,
Trixie Lulamoon