The letter

Re: Missive to The Crown.

Your correspondence was received with the most prompt and critical attention by Your Highness. He is speechless for his own loss, yet he will be sending response and orders on the morrow. Your support and condolences are appreciated. There will be a full statement forthcoming. Best wishes for your effort (and the danger) of your message.

The Crown

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From: Sky_Paladin
Subject: Missive to the Crown.

To His Most Glorious Imperial Highness, Wise and Virtuous ruler of all these lands, your humble and loyal servant sends fair tidings. But alas! Though I wouldst prefer to tell of great joy and companionship, the message I must present is blacker than the darkest night, more evil than the Devil's dreams, and against all order of natural things. Please forgive your servants shaky handwriting and tear stained parchment; I canst but barely hold the quill long enough to cease from weeping from the awful rot I feel inside from having to pen these ungodly, forbidden words.

I have learned that on this day, Tuesday 17 of June, that His Royal Highness, Prince Escalus, the brightest star in the skies, pride of your family and our hope for a peaceful future, was brutally slain by traitors to the crown, cowardly vipers, and filthy peasants. I was not there, instead I – and my allies – were labouring to destroy the wretched dogs who would dare speak ill of the Royal Line. Even we did not expect that these animals would have had the courage to lay hands on our fair Prince. We were prepared to lay down our lives to defend him, and my son – my dear son – right now is in great peril. I share keenly the sense of pain and anguish and – and righteous fury – that you must now feel.

You know the love I had for your son. I greatly admired him and sought his favour at all times. He was an unparalleled gamesman, a competent fencer, as wise as Samson, and his knowledge of the land was greater than any other. He was a consummate gentleman, courted many ladies, excelled in arts, decisive, resolute: Harsh, but always just. Surely, Niccolo Machiavelli himself could find no fault with this man. Thou he had little time for me, what little moments he could spare for my attention I gobbled up like a starving, homeless person, always desperate for more. I lost a peer, a friend, a mentor and leader. I feel a great ache in my heart. The world is a darker, smaller, more wretched place with his passing. I have no more desire to be in it without him. Only the knowledge that those filthy mongrels, those hyenas, those eaters of faeces and babies hearts that dared laid hands upon him – that they still live and await justice keeps my passion burning. That coven of demons, laughing at their success, know not the terrible vengeance that they have brought down upon them.

My son at great peril to himself has enamoured himself amongst the hearts of the enemy. He was able to deliver to me the names of those who sought our beloved Prince's downfall. Because they are cowards, they do not use their true names, only fanciful, random things, torn from the pages of books good men would know are heretical.

Link
CitizenX
Sapphire
Santakuroosu
Umino
Suike
ChaoticAtomBomb
Kaiba
TheWinkel
Midnyt
BBC
LOL Patrol
Jun
Major_Pain
NeoNostalgia
TheHumbleGrasshopper

Should I learn their true identities I will of course inform you at once. Up until this point I had kept my rapier away, for I thought that the pen is mightier than the sword. But I had forgotten that the uneducated masses are too easily swayed by colourful words and those who offer false, shining promises. They would prefer to live a beautiful lie than to till the land, work the soil, and earn an honest living.

Miserable curs. I will cut out their tongues and hang their heads from the city limits. For me, should any of my family be in that list, I cut them off from me. I love my children as I love my wife; but like a cancer I must excise dead flesh. From this day forth they are stricken from my family's book of names. They are dead to me. Their crimes cannot be atoned.

All save one. My son is in that list, fighting against all odds to reveal the true agents, the seeds of destruction, upon this town. I know that the Capulet's were heavily involved and I believe Lord Capulet to be the one responsible for inciting the riot. He has told me of his great fear, for he believes the enemy has guessed his identity, and his death will come soon after. This is the price I must pay for failing you, my Regal superiors. My sons life is no compensation for yours, nay, should even the whole town be levelled it cannot undo this terrible betrayal. I have not written his name for fear that this letter should fall in to enemy hands, but know this – he can be recognised by my signet ring which he keeps upon him at all times.

I must also speak of the Count Paris.

I must confess. For a long time, I have thought ill of the man. In these recent days, he has become something new, something else entirely. He has become a paragon of virtue, and a silent testimony to courage and honour. In these dark and hopeless times, he remains as a source of inspiration and hope for a hopeless people. I believe the that while your son was here, he took Paris under his wing and taught him the many virtues of man. In such a short time he transformed the Count from someone who occasional jests were made of, into somebody I am now ashamed to have ever looked poorly upon. If your holy fury desires the annihilation of all in Verona, I must ask: Please spare the Count. No matter what else you may know or think of, I sincerely believe he had no part in your sons demise. All day he has been quiet and trembling, and scarce had anything to eat. I thought I heard him weeping once, at the court earlier today.

Montague will welcome your judgement. We will make preparations and accommodations for any force that you wish to deploy at this time. I wish only for the destruction of those who, against all that is good and right, took your valiant sons life.

Yours sincerely,

Lord Montague