My dear Elian Abrantes
I pray this letter finds you in good health and calmer spirits than the whispers would suggest. I scarcely know what to believe anymore, for dreadful rumors seem to travel faster than truth in noble circles, and lately your name has been spoken far too often in tones that unsettle me greatly. I will not repeat the stories here. I would rather hear the truth from you than listen to another poisoned tongue eager for gossip.
Still, I confess I am worried.
You have been absent for so long that even the halls feel quieter without you, and I find myself thinking often of our conversations and the ease with which you once made me laugh. Naboo is beautiful as ever, impossibly so at sunset, yet there are moments when all its gardens and fountains feel terribly lonely.
I miss you, Elian.
If it is within your power, I would ask that you come visit me at the estate here on Naboo. The lake country is peaceful this time of year, and perhaps some distance from your troubles would do you good. You would be welcomed warmly, and I think seeing you with my own eyes would ease my mind more than I can possibly say.
Please write when you are able. Even a few honest words would mean more to me than you know.
With love always,
Guinevere Cavello
