15 September 3015

My Dearest Mother,

I write to you following a week of extraordinary events that have given me much to reflect upon and much to share with you. The Feast of Trumpets—one of Bravia’s most important religious observances—has brought together developments that have deepened my understanding of this nation and that have, I hope, helped me begin to see more clearly the complicated realities we face.

But first, Mother, I must address the letter you sent me after you learned of the border closure. Your anxiety and your fears for me were evident in every word, and I feel I must respond to them before I tell you about recent events.

To My Dear Mother, With Love and Reassurance

Mother, I read your letter several times, and each time I found myself moved by your love and by your worry. You have borne so much—Father’s death, my departure, the political pressures at court, and now the anxiety that comes from seeing Bravia demonstrate its power in ways that frighten people at home. I wish I could embrace you and tell you face to face what I can only say in a letter: I am well, I am safe, and you need not fear for me.

Let me address your specific concerns as directly as I can:

On the border closure and my safety: Mother, the border closure is not a threat to me or to our embassy. The Bravians have been scrupulously correct in their treatment of us. They have not restricted our movements, have not pressured us in any way, and have continued to treat us with the courtesy due to diplomatic representatives of a friendly nation. If anything, Bravian officials have gone out of their way to ensure we understand that their military operations are not directed against us and that they value our good relations.

I am not in danger here, Mother. I am not surrounded by enemies or living in fear. I am living in a foreign country that is conducting military operations that affect our nation’s interests, but that is treating me personally with courtesy and respect.

On being caught between conflicting pressures: You worry that I may be caught between those at home who will suspect me of excessive sympathy with Bravia and Bravians who expect me to understand their perspectives. Mother, I confess this is a real tension, and it is something I think about often.

But Uncle Leonidas has helped me understand that this tension is inherent in diplomatic work—that representing one’s nation abroad always means navigating between home perspectives and host nation perspectives, and that the skill lies in understanding both while serving one’s own nation faithfully.

I am learning to observe carefully, to listen genuinely, to understand Bravian perspectives without necessarily agreeing with them. I am learning to report what I see accurately while maintaining clear awareness of whose interests I serve. It is not always easy, but I believe I am managing it reasonably well with Uncle’s guidance.

On maintaining perspective: You wrote that you worry about how I will maintain appropriate perspective when surrounded by people who are the source of power that makes our countrymen anxious. This is perhaps the most important question you raised, Mother, and I want to answer it as honestly as I can.

I think about this constantly. I think about Father and what he would want me to remember. I think about you and what you taught me about honor and integrity. I think about our nation and the responsibilities I accepted when I came here. These thoughts anchor me, Mother. They keep me grounded in who I am and where I come from.

Do I sometimes find myself impressed by what I see here? Yes, I do. The Bravians have built something remarkable, and it would be dishonest to deny that. Do I sometimes find myself sympathizing with Bravian perspectives? Yes, that too happens—particularly when they explain their reasoning and their motivations.

But I also remember that being impressed by achievement does not require surrendering judgment about what that achievement means for others. I can admire Bravian organization while also recognizing that their power creates difficulties for neighboring nations. I can understand Bravian security concerns while also acknowledging that their actions to address those concerns affect other nations’ interests.

I am trying, Mother, to develop what Uncle calls “sophisticated understanding”—the ability to see situations from multiple perspectives while maintaining clear awareness of one’s own position and loyalties. It is difficult, and I am sure I do not always succeed. But I am genuinely trying, and I believe Uncle is helping me develop this capacity.

On your questioning whether sending me here was wise: Mother, please do not torment yourself with such questions. You made the best decision you could with the information and the understanding you had at the time. That the situation has become more complicated than we anticipated does not mean your decision was wrong.

Moreover, I believe that I am learning things here that I could not learn anywhere else—not just about Bravia, but about diplomacy, about power, about how nations relate to each other, about my own capabilities and limitations. These lessons may prove valuable regardless of how our specific relationship with Bravia develops.

And finally, Mother, I want you to know that I am not miserable here. I am challenged, yes. I am sometimes uncertain and anxious, yes. But I am also engaged in meaningful work, I am learning and growing, and I am—dare I say it—sometimes even enjoying aspects of this experience.

You need not feel guilty about sending me here, Mother. I came willingly, and I remain committed to the work I am doing.

On the Feast of Trumpets and the Establishment of Co-Regency

Now let me tell you about the extraordinary events of this past week, beginning with the Feast of Trumpets services and the establishment of the co-regency.

The Feast of Trumpets is one of the most solemn occasions in the Bravian religious calendar—a day of reflection, prayer, and spiritual renewal. Uncle explained to me that the holiday has its roots in ancient Hebrew tradition dating back many centuries, and that the Bravians maintain these observances as part of their connection to their heritage.

Uncle and I attended the services in the Great Sanctuary as representatives of our nation. Mother, I wish I could adequately describe the experience to you, but I fear my words will fall short.

The Great Sanctuary is an enormous building constructed in a style that Uncle tells me echoes ancient Jewish architecture from Old Earth, though adapted to local materials and conditions. It can hold thousands of people, and it was filled to capacity for this occasion.

The services themselves were conducted entirely in Royal and Ecclesiastical Bravian—the religious and official language of Bravia—which meant that I could only follow portions with Uncle’s whispered translations. But even without understanding all the words, the gravity and the solemnity of the occasion were evident. There was singing—haunting melodies in minor keys that Uncle said were ancient tunes preserved from Old Earth. There were prayers led by the senior religious leaders. There were readings from their sacred texts.

And then came the moment that was the purpose of this gathering: the installation of Crown Prince Michael as co-Exilarch.

Mother, I have attended state ceremonies at home, and I have seen how our royalty present themselves and conduct official functions. But this was different. There was no pomp, no elaborate costume, no theatrical display. Instead, there was a profound dignity—a sense that something important and solemn was occurring, something that mattered more than mere political power or dynastic succession.

The elderly Exilarch—who I could see was indeed quite frail, though still commanding in presence—spoke at length about leadership, about responsibility, about the weight of authority. He spoke about his son with evident love and respect, describing how he had been prepared for this role through years of learning and service.

Then he called his son forward, placed upon his head a circlet similar to his own crown, and proclaimed him co-Exilarch—not heir apparent, not deputy, but equal ruler with full sovereign authority.

Mother, I found myself quite moved by this moment. There was something about the relationship between father and son—the father choosing to share his authority while still capable rather than clinging to power until death forced the transition, the son accepting the responsibility with evident humility—that struck me as embodying something admirable about leadership and about family.

After the installation, every senior official came forward to pledge loyalty to both rulers jointly. Uncle pointed out to me that they were not pledging loyalty to the crown prince as subordinate to his father, but to both men as equal holders of authority. This was not a deputy being appointed—this was power being genuinely shared.

The crown prince—I suppose I should now call him the junior co-Exilarch, though I am not certain of the proper terminology—then gave his own address. He spoke about continuing his father’s work, about building regional stability, about creating partnerships with neighboring nations.

What struck me most about his words, Mother, was that he seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. This was not mere diplomatic rhetoric or empty political language. He spoke with conviction about building a regional order based on cooperation and mutual benefit, about integrating nations into a larger political community while respecting their distinct identities.

Whether his vision adequately accounts for the concerns of nations that might not wish to be integrated—that is a different question, one that Uncle and I have discussed at length. But I came away from the ceremony believing that the Bravian leadership genuinely sees itself as building something positive rather than simply accumulating power.

On the Public Prayers Regarding the War

During the services, the religious leaders offered public prayers concerning the ongoing conflict with our southern neighbor. These prayers asked for wisdom in bringing the war to a just conclusion, for mercy toward the defeated, and for discernment in establishing arrangements that would prevent future conflict.

More significantly, the prayers referenced ongoing negotiations—acknowledging publicly that discussions are underway to formalize the end of hostilities.

Mother, this brings me to news that I hope will relieve some of your anxiety: Uncle’s sources indicate that these negotiations are progressing well and that formal agreements may be reached within the next few weeks. Once agreements are concluded, there will be a transition period, and then the border should reopen.

This means that the economic pressures you described—the disruption to trade, the shortages, the uncertainty—should ease within the next month or two. I know this cannot undo the damage already done or eliminate the political tensions that the closure created, but at least it offers hope that this particular crisis will be resolved in the near term.

Uncle is already preparing recommendations for His Majesty’s government about how to prepare for border reopening and how to position ourselves to benefit from the changed circumstances once the border is open again.

On the Western Compact and Regional Transformation

The day after the Feast of Trumpets, the co-Exilarchs jointly announced the formation of what they are calling the Western Compact—a comprehensive alliance with four western neighbors that mirrors the Eastern Alliance previously concluded.

Uncle and I attended the announcement ceremony along with diplomatic representatives from many nations. Mother, I must tell you honestly: the ceremony was impressive, and the implications of what was being announced were sobering.

The treaty creates complete military integration, eliminates all economic barriers, establishes political coordination mechanisms, and—most significantly—envisions eventual incorporation of these allied nations as provinces within Bravia.

When combined with the Eastern Alliance, this means that Bravia now leads a regional bloc that includes itself plus nine allied nations—virtually the entire inhabited portion of this continent except for our nation and a few smaller polities.

I watched the representatives of the four western nations as they expressed their enthusiasm for these arrangements. Some appeared genuinely excited about the opportunities. Others appeared more resigned—accepting that alignment with Bravia is simply the reality they must accommodate. But none expressed reluctance or resistance.

After the ceremony, Uncle and I had a long conversation about what this means for our nation. Mother, I will not hide from you that I found this conversation troubling. Uncle is not alarmist by nature, but even he acknowledges that these developments leave us in a difficult position—one of the few nations not aligned with Bravia in a region where Bravia is establishing itself as the organizing center of political order.

Uncle is preparing detailed recommendations for His Majesty’s government about how we should respond. He will share these with you and with the Foreign Minister, so I will not attempt to duplicate his analysis here. But I want you to know that he is thinking very carefully about our position and about how to protect our interests in these changed circumstances.

On the Investment Opportunity and My Decision

Mother, I must also tell you about a more personal development that I hope you will understand and approve.

As part of Bravia’s efforts to integrate their eastern and western territories, they are building a major new city called Center Guardian at a strategic location along the Eastern River. This city is being developed as a trade and transportation hub, with significant investment in warehouses, port facilities, and infrastructure.

The development is being led in part by Prince Marcus of the Septimus line—a cadet branch of the royal family. Prince Marcus is an energetic young man perhaps five years older than I am, and he has been actively recruiting investors for warehouse facilities in Center Guardian.

Several weeks ago, Prince Marcus approached Uncle at a diplomatic function to inquire whether our nation or our merchants might be interested in investing. More recently, he approached me directly, inviting me to join a syndicate of younger investors who are pooling capital to fund warehouse construction.

Mother, I went to Uncle to discuss whether I should participate in this investment. We had a long and thoughtful conversation about the opportunities and the risks.

The opportunity is real: if Center Guardian develops as projected, early investors in well-positioned warehouse facilities could earn significant returns. Moreover, participation would establish commercial relationships with influential Bravians and would demonstrate my willingness to engage positively with regional development.

But there are also risks: becoming financially entangled with Bravian investments could create conflicts of interest or could be seen at home as evidence that I have been co-opted by Bravian interests. And if relations with Bravia deteriorate, capital invested in Bravian-controlled territory could become problematic.

Uncle left the decision to me, while providing guidance about how to think through the considerations. After reflecting carefully, I decided to participate in the investment, but at a modest level—enough to establish relationships and demonstrate engagement, but not so much that I become dependent on these ventures or vulnerable to pressure based on my financial exposure.

I invested approximately twenty percent of the capital I inherited from Father—enough to be meaningful but not so much that losing it would be devastating. The remaining capital remains in more secure investments at home.

Mother, I hope you will understand and approve of this decision. I believe it strikes an appropriate balance between seizing a legitimate opportunity and maintaining appropriate caution. But I also want you to know about it so that you are not surprised if you hear of it through other channels, and so that you can advise me if you believe I have made an error in judgment.

On My Observations and My Growth

Mother, you asked me in your letter to tell you about my work, my observations, and my feelings. Let me try to respond to that request as honestly as I can.

On my work: I am being given gradually increasing responsibilities, and I believe I am handling them reasonably well. I have drafted several reports that Uncle transmitted to His Majesty’s government with only minor edits. I have represented our embassy at functions where Uncle could not attend. I am becoming more comfortable with diplomatic protocols and with navigating social situations where political implications lurk beneath surface pleasantries.

My language skills continue to improve. I can now conduct basic conversations in Hebrew without excessive difficulty, though I still struggle with complex discussions or technical matters. Uncle tells me that my progress is quite good for the time I have been here, which encourages me.

On my observations: I observe a society that is in many ways impressive in its organization, its efficiency, and its apparent commitment to order and justice. The Bravians have clear rules that are applied consistently. Their government is competent and generally free of the corruption that plagues many nations. Their people seem prosperous and content.

But I also observe a society that is quite certain of its own righteousness and quite willing to impose its vision on others who might not share it. The Bravians genuinely believe they are building something superior—a better political order, a more just society, a more stable system. They see themselves as offering partnership and opportunity to their neighbors.

But they seem to have difficulty imagining that other nations might have legitimate reasons for preferring independence to integration, or that their vision of regional order might not adequately account for others’ concerns and interests.

Uncle has helped me understand that both of these observations can be true simultaneously—that Bravia can have real virtues while also having real blind spots, and that understanding both is essential to understanding the nation itself.

On my feelings: I am often uncertain, Mother. Uncertain whether I am understanding situations correctly. Uncertain whether I am maintaining appropriate perspective. Uncertain whether I am handling my responsibilities adequately.

But I am also—and this perhaps surprises me—increasingly confident in my ability to learn and to grow. I make mistakes, but I try to learn from them. I encounter situations I do not fully understand, but I ask questions and seek guidance. I face challenges that intimidate me, but I find that I can usually handle them if I approach them thoughtfully.

Uncle told me recently that he sees me developing “diplomatic instincts”—the ability to read situations, to understand what is really being communicated, to recognize when to speak and when to listen. He said this with evident satisfaction, and his words meant more to me than any formal commendation might have.

I think Father would be proud of me, Mother. Not because I am doing everything perfectly—I am certainly not—but because I am approaching difficult work with seriousness and integrity, and because I am striving to serve well and to learn genuinely. That is what Father valued, and I hope I am honoring his memory by embodying those values.

On Comforting You, My Dear Mother

Mother, I come now to the part of this letter that I have been thinking about most carefully—how to respond to your anxieties and your fears in a way that is both honest and comforting.

You are worried about me, about our family’s position, about the future. And I understand why you are worried—the situation is genuinely difficult, the choices we face are genuinely complex, and the outcomes are genuinely uncertain.

But Mother, let me tell you what I have learned here that gives me hope and that I hope will give you some comfort as well:

First: We are not without resources or capabilities. Uncle is remarkably skilled at his work. He understands Bravia better than virtually anyone else in our nation. He has cultivated relationships with key Bravian officials who respect him and value his insights. He is providing His Majesty’s government with analysis that is helping them understand the realities we face and navigate them more effectively.

And I am learning from him, Mother. Not just facts about Bravia or techniques for diplomatic work, but ways of thinking about complex situations, methods for maintaining perspective, skills for managing relationships. The expertise our family is developing gives us value to our nation and provides us with capacity to serve effectively regardless of how political winds shift.

Second: The Bravians are not monsters or villains. They are people pursuing what they believe to be right and just, albeit with insufficient appreciation for how their actions affect others. This means they can be reasoned with, negotiated with, influenced by those who understand them and who engage with them thoughtfully.

Our nation’s position is difficult, but it is not hopeless. We have options for protecting our interests and for finding acceptable accommodations with Bravian power. The work Uncle and I are doing here is part of identifying and pursuing those options.

Third: Political situations are not static. What seems intractable today may become manageable tomorrow. What appears threatening now may prove less dangerous than anticipated. Circumstances change, opportunities arise, new possibilities emerge.

This does not mean we should be complacent or assume everything will work out favorably. But it does mean we should not despair or assume that current difficulties define permanent conditions.

Fourth: Our family has faced difficulties before and has survived them through clear thinking, careful planning, and mutual support. Father’s death was devastating, but we survived it. My departure for Bravia was wrenching, but we are managing it. The current political tensions are real, but I believe we will navigate them as well.

We are not fragile, Mother. We are resilient. We are capable. We are resourceful. And we have each other, even across the distance that separates us.

Fifth: You are stronger than you perhaps realize. You have managed our family’s affairs through genuine tragedy. You have maintained our position at court through complex political tensions. You have corresponded regularly with both Uncle and me, providing us with information and perspective that strengthens our work here.

You describe yourself as worried and uncertain, but your letters demonstrate clarity of thought, sophistication of analysis, and strength of character. Trust yourself, Mother. Trust your judgment and your capabilities.

And trust that your son, far away in a foreign land, loves you deeply and is thinking of you constantly, and is determined to serve in a way that makes you proud and that justifies your faith in him.

On Missing Home and Looking Forward

Mother, I miss you terribly. I miss our conversations, your counsel, your presence. I miss home—the familiarity of it, the comfort of it, the sense of belonging that comes from being in one’s own place among one’s own people.

There are moments—often in the evening after work is done—when the homesickness is sharp enough to hurt. When I want nothing more than to be back home, to see you, to walk familiar streets, to hear our own language spoken around me without having to think about every word.

But there are also moments—increasingly frequent—when I feel that I am exactly where I should be, doing work that matters, learning things that will serve me well regardless of where life takes me.

I think perhaps this is what growing up means, Mother—learning to hold both of these feelings simultaneously, to miss home while also embracing the place where you are, to wish for comfort while also accepting challenge.

The package you mentioned in your earlier letter—the warm cloak, the journal, the portrait miniature, the preserved fruits, the books—has not yet arrived, but I am watching for it eagerly. Having tangible reminders of home, and especially having your portrait miniature to place in my quarters, will mean more to me than I can adequately express.

I read and reread your letters, Mother. I keep them in the drawer of my desk, and when I am feeling uncertain or lonely, I take them out and read them again. Your words comfort me, encourage me, strengthen me. Please continue to write often, as your letters are precious to me.

In Closing

Mother, I close this long letter with gratitude for your love, with appreciation for your wisdom, with awareness of your anxiety, and with hope that my words have provided some reassurance and comfort.

I am well. I am safe. I am learning and growing. I am serving as faithfully as I can. I am thinking of you constantly. And I am confident that together—you at home, Uncle and I here in Bravia—we will navigate whatever challenges we face.

Trust in God, Mother. Trust in our family’s strength and resilience. Trust in Uncle’s wisdom and competence. And trust in your son, who loves you more than words can express and who is determined to make you proud.

Write to me soon and often. Tell me about your days, your observations, your thoughts. Tell me about the small details of life at home that help me imagine where you are and what you are experiencing. Your letters are my connection to home and to you, and I treasure them beyond measure.

May God watch over you and grant you peace, my dearest mother.

With all my love,

Your devoted son,

Lysander

P.S. — Mother, regarding your question about whether I should continue historical research or focus on current affairs: Uncle and I have discussed this, and he believes that the historical research has value and that I should continue pursuing it as time permits alongside my other responsibilities.

In fact, the historical connections I discovered—our nation’s role in the First Battle of Cape Esperance, the alliance between our people and the Bravian refugees, the shared sacrifice that created bonds between us—these things do seem to matter to the Bravians. When they learn that I am interested in this history, they become more open, more willing to discuss their perspectives and their motivations.

Uncle suggests that this historical research may actually strengthen my ability to do diplomatic work by giving me deeper understanding of how Bravians see themselves and their relationship to the region. He says that history is not separate from current affairs but rather provides essential context for understanding them.

So yes, I will continue exploring this history while also attending to more immediate responsibilities. And I will share with you whatever interesting discoveries I make, as I know you find this history as fascinating as I do.

Give my love to Lady Margrave if you see her, and thank her for her kindness to you. Tell her that I remember her encouragement before I departed and that I am grateful for it.

And tell Crown Prince Alexander, if you meet with him again, that his advice to be “clear-eyed about the world as it is” has proven valuable. I am trying to maintain that clear vision, even when what I see is complicated or uncomfortable.

Be well, Mother, and write to me soon.

L.