Ferdinand . . . Mi Amor. . . .

A pequeño pescador’s raft arrived today with your letters. A storm of emotion swept through our palace upon reading of your journeys and the adventures you have had. We were all amazed to hear of the desert wastelands full of sand bears and the hills of gold you have discovered along the mighty and mysterious Tajo river.

We were intrigued to learn about the strange gold-faced Khmer people, and the men who have horns growing from their skulls that you call Vikings. We were saddened to learn these men had not yet heard of the joy Buddhism can bring to their lives, and were overcome with pride upon learning you had shared the saving grace of our religion with them. One can only hope they will bring these ideals back with them and save their doomed people from an entire life lived in darkness and ignorance. Our hearts sank when your letters notified us that the legends of great swine in the Spanish forests have been nothing but folly and superstition. Hearing of the great ocean and the tall mountains to the North have lead to some in the kitchens and stales to daydream of lives lived outside of Beloved Madrid. Can you imagine? My heart aches for their feeble minded ways.

I hear rumors that families and young men looking to make their fortunes have volunteered to travel down the river to settle in the golden hills and fertile river valleys you have written about. I have publicly commended their sacrifice in the name of Spain but worry they may not take our devotion to spirituality with them to these hovels that you have so nobly named Barcelona and Seville.

But knowing that you are somewhere down the same river I gaze upon every morning as I enjoy my pudín de arroz, gives me hope that you will return home to rule Spain by my side.

Todo mi amor - Isabella