Letter to Ivette from Korvace

To the honorable Ivette, lady of Bressia,

Greetings, fair gentlewoman! May this letter find you in good health.

As you undoubtedly know, I have become the lord of Mastings, a title your husband finds most odious. While he attempts to project an image of strength, claiming that the conquest of my city is impending, you and I both know the truth. Mastings is mine, and will remain so. It is but the first of many cities that will fall under my thumb. Unlike the rabble, we both are aware of your husband’s impotence to defend his own stronghold, much less take mine. His coffers have been drained by his “projects”, his manpower is at a minimum, the town’s defenses are worthless. Furthermore, my allies and resources are far beyond what any suspect. I tell you this because of fondness of our shared past, and furthermore I warn you this:

I am coming. I will bend Bressia to my will and make an example of the Baron.

I’m writing to you out of respect. You may have married a worthless fellow, but you needn’t die for him. Take your daughter and flee north, to Abeulys. Take a ship south to Bifilin and from there travel wherever you wish. I will make no attempt to stop you, nor would I coerce you to join me in Mastings. I may be a butcher, but I am a gentleman.

Most sincerely,

Korvace

P.s. Do not attempt to let your husband know of this letter. My spies are many. If I find that you have abused my respect, then your Uncle Attwell will pay in fingers and toes.