I hope my letter finds you well, dear Guy.
Allow me to be honest — these few weeks
have meant the world, but this must be goodbye.
My destiny is set, for Edward seeks
to marry me, and abdicate the throne.
I could not tie you up with kingdoms, flags,
affairs of State. Your heart must not be blown
to ridicule on tawdry Fleet Street rags.
I pray your business thrives among the best;
and, Dearest Guy, keep dancing in that slow,
delinquent style. You told me, half in jest:
All women fall for you. Let it be so —
Dispense your charms and cast your sultry spell,
and let them fall as I, too briefly, fell.