Queen Gertrude’s Letter #3


My dear brother,

How the years do fly. How long it has been since I last saw you. I hope you are well.

I fear the words I intend to write. If any were to see it, I would be executed for treasonous intentions. That is why I must never have these letters delivered to you. It would mean my death and your shame. I will not have you shamed by my desires.

My husband the King left the other day to handle a border dispute.

His brother visited this morning and spoke wild words of love to me. I was overcome with shock. The audacity of him to utter such things in my own castle while his brother the King yet lived. I told him that I could not accept such outbursts and declarations.

He asked me if I cared for him.

I should have told him no. It would have been the truth. He is everything my husband the King is not. Yet, he still holds some power over me. An unyielding allure.

I told him yes. Oh, now that I think upon it, I recognize it as the truth. Yet, I will not call it love. It is intrigue and nothing more.

Then, he kissed me.

My husband the King has never kissed me in such a passionate manner. It stole my breath away and, I fear, a good percentage of my wits.

I returned his kiss. Several times.

I fear for my future.

I fear for my husband the King.

If only I could speak to you, dear brother. You would surely guide me to do what is right. Yet, I know what is right. I know what I ought to do. I ought to tell my husband the King of his brother’s untoward behavior. I ought to have him banned from ever entering this castle again.

If I did so, I would never see him again.

That is not what I want.

Dear brother! If only you were here.

Your sister the Queen




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