2nd of Frost

Dear Mr. Squizzyfoot,

Today was Mother's Feast. I invited Nurse Leah, Nurse Pearl, and their families to join the celebration at the palace.

Two days ago we had the execution. I made sure the Embassy wing had a good view. I saw movement in the windows when the ax came down. I hope whoever was watching (I requested the Asis ambassador sit with me) understands the example I am setting. I hope the King of Asis also sets an example for anyone else who might be considering following this man's footsteps.

The feast was wonderful. Cyrus and his cooks outdid themselves. I will give final approval to opening trade with Asis tomorrow, and Marlon will give his blessing. If all goes well, next summer will be bright and prosperous. My Grand Tour will begin on the first of Seed.

I have taken to reading to Teresa at night. She loves to hear the adventures of Janet and Dog Rose Thorn. Nurse Leah brings me the other books as soon as she finds them. According to Emilia, this has made her quite popular downstairs. All the servants are actively trading the books between themselves. The evening reading has also had the side effect of curtailing Teresa's explorations. However, to be safe, I have had a Guard assigned to her door. If she should leave at night, he has explicit instructions to stay with her and steer her away from the Embassy Wing.

Since I have been reading these books I have become more intrigued with this Magician Janna. I spoke to Kevin again, he has more information on her. Apparently, she helped one of the Snake People's clans in the south about two years ago. I think I shall send for her. Kevin told me they were heading west when he left them, but Sir Fields encountered them in Clay which is south and east. I gave Kevin permission to send a messenger.

Mr. Squizzyfoot, writing to you has helped me greatly. I thank you for your help, good sir. Theresa seems to be outgrowing you, which is unfortunate but inevitable. She has even stopped saying "butt" all the time. I wonder if I should continue with my letters. It seems strange that I, a grown woman, firmly under the Mother's protection, would continue to write letters to someone who exists only in a child's imagination. But then again, maybe you exist like the Gods do, beyond our comprehension but still in every breath, breeze, and bit of influence.

I have had too much wine I think. Good night, Mr. Squizzyfoot.

Isabelle