.:Prologue:.

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.:Prologue:.

            “Dear Wesley.”

            The two words written across the top of the parchment shone with the newly written words. A delicate, flawless hand hovered over the paper, the feathered quill tip glistening with ink. 

            The words implied intimacy.

            Arphelia promptly dropped the quill, splattering droplets of ink everywhere. She crumpled up the piece of parchment and set it aside. With another new piece of parchment, she picked up her quill again and began slowly writing out the words.

            “Dear Prince Wesley.”

            The words were less intimate, but they still implied a sense of familiarity. She ripped the parchment into many parts, threw them aside, and picked up her quill again.

            “Dear Prince.”

            There.

            Arphelia set about writing the rest of her letter.

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