My dear Nishka,

You don't know me, neither do I truly know you. Mother has always told me stories of you ever since she had to leave you with Tomas, maybe you think he is your brother, perhaps an uncle or a father, but he is not a friend of yours. Now that you know this, you will have to leave. 

As the firstborn you were promised to Tomas, the sorcerer you might have heard of and thought was merely a folk tale, when you were born he came to take you. As the second child I was left in my mother's care. 

The stories mother told me of you were about you in your first moment, how you were the most beautiful baby she had ever seen, even more so than me, how you did not cry, how you came out big and strong with a large tuft of black hair atop your head. How eagerly you clung to anyone holding you. Often she would talk of your eyes, a deep and knowing brown, even bigger than my light brown eyes. 

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

And now mother has been dead for a year. I tried to forget the stories she told, the ones about you and the ones about monsters and sorcerers, but I couldn't. How are you doing sister? Are you hurt? 

I am healthy and well and have missed you all my life. I would like to invite you to my home. Our home. 

On the west side of the wall there is a fence to help the roses grow, you can climb it over the wall. When you do you will find yourself in the most beautiful gardens filled with peonies, roses, chrysanthemums and hyacinths, the scent won't overwhelm you too much because it will be night and the flowers will be asleep under the moon. There is a path that is flanked by rose bushes, stay on the path until you reach a bench. I will be waiting there for you.

I hope to meet you soon.

Crown princess Stazia, daughter of Emperor Lucan and Empress Mila,

Heir to the throne of the Glatia Empire,

Your sister.