“Dear Marcella”

The marketplaces of Azza are not what they used to be. The Good Doctor says it is due to fluctuations in temporal vibrations, misalignment with the cosmic fork, and other nonsense. Again, I plead with you my dear, persuade your husband to withdraw these rogues of his and dispatch real scientists.
I can barely hold the barbarians at bay, Marcella. Each day they clamor for my impeachment. They burn me in effigy in the streets. Why? For giving them what they asked for? And where is that windfall your husband promised me? Where are the ships full of coal?
My personal guard reports an increase in spies and assassins in Azza. All from over The Wall, of course. We don't know where they're from, in truth. They look like islanders to me more than Jonovians, but what do I know.
The Minister of Defence wants answers, too. What should I say? You've got to come here, my dear. You mustn't leave me to these wolves.
If I could package my love and send it along, I would. Instead I'll say that I am yours. Always and forever.
Everett
13 January