Hope Amid War

March 4th, 1945

My Dearest Rudolph,

I can hardly describe the joy I felt upon receiving your letter. You remember the guard, Viktor, he slipped it into my bedroom through your favorite window. I held it in my hands for what seemed an eternity, almost afraid to open it, as though the mere act of breaking the seal would cause the fleeting moment of hope to slip through my fingers. But when I finally read your words, I swear my heart skipped a beat, and I could scarcely believe that after three long years, you were still thinking of me. How I have missed you, more than I ever thought possible.

Your letter reached me just at the moment when I had begun to lose myself. It feels as though this war has stretched time into endless days and nights filled with uncertainty. You cannot know how I longed for news of you, how my thoughts often wandered to the place where you are, imagining your face and hoping that you were well. And now, to know that you are alive and still fighting, though my heart aches at the thought of the dangers you face, fills me with a sense of relief I cannot explain. I will cling to the hope that each day brings you closer to home.

Three years. The weight of those words hangs heavy on my heart. There were times when I almost lost faith, when it seemed as though the world had conspired to steal you from me, to cast me into an endless void of longing. But your letter has rekindled the flame I thought was extinguished. It is as though your words have reached across time and space, wrapping me in your warmth, reminding me that you are still there, still mine. I will hold on to this, I will hold on with everything I have.

I am still here, as you left me, my love. Time has not been kind. This wretched castle feels emptier now, and my husband, well, he continues to treat me with such indifference that I wonder sometimes if I ever truly existed for him. He cares more about that chamberlain, the same as he has always done. I swear, he now needs her for briefings about four times a day. I live in a cold silence with him, a silence that has stretched for so long that it feels permanent. There are moments, in the quiet when I wonder if I will ever feel warmth again, real warmth, the kind you always brought to me with your touch, your words, your very presence. But my heart belongs to you, as it always has.

Oh, how I miss you! Your laughter, the way your hands would hold mine as though the world would come undone if we were not together. How I long for that. How I long for you. Yet, here I am, trapped in a castle that feels as though it is made of ice, where my every movement is watched, and my every word is measured. I think of you constantly, my mind wandering back to those precious days we shared before the war took you from me. It seems so long ago now, but I remember every detail, the scent of your skin, the warmth of your embrace, and the way your eyes would soften when you looked at me. Those moments are all I have to hold on to, and they sustain me through the dark days.

I tell myself that this is but a chapter in my life, a temporary sorrow that will fade when we are together once more. When you return to me. You must return, Rodulph. I have never given up hope, not for a moment, even when the years felt impossibly long. Your words have rekindled the flame of hope in me again. How I wish I could hold you, tell you in person how much I love you, how desperately I miss you. But the distance, the war, and the world itself seem to conspire to keep us apart. I hate it, Rodulph, I hate it so much. But I hold on. I hold on because I believe in us. I believe in you.

I read the part of your letter where you spoke of your days in the trenches, and my heart breaks for you. How I wish I could ease your burden, take away the horrors you must witness each day. I know it is a brutal world you inhabit, a world I can scarcely imagine. I fear for you constantly, Rodulph. I lie awake at night, listening to the sounds of the war raging in the distance, and I pray for your safety. I send you all the strength and love that I have, my dearest Rodulph, and hope that it reaches you across the miles. It’s a small comfort, I know, but it is all I have to give. I think of you constantly, imagining you safe, even though I know the dangers are ever-present.

As for myself, I feel as though I am living two lives. There are the moments spent with my husband, in dinners, and a few royal gatherings, the façade of normalcy we are expected to maintain. He remains distant, indifferent to me, yet the world still expects us to play our roles as though nothing has changed. It is the most exhausting thing, to wear this mask of marital contentment while my heart aches for you. I do not know how much longer I can pretend, Rodulph. The strain of this quiet despair weighs on me every day. My heart breaks for the woman I once was, for the love I once had for a man who now treats me like a stranger. He does not see me. He does not feel me. And so, I endure, living in the shadow of a life I did not choose.

But then there are the stolen moments in which I allow myself to remember you, our time together, the way your touch made the world seem to slow down and belong to us alone. I close my eyes and feel your hands on my face, your lips against mine. The memory of you is both my greatest joy and my deepest sorrow, for it is all that I have, and yet it is so far from me. I cannot wait for the day when I no longer have to live in the shadows when I can finally say your name openly, when we can stand together in the light, when I can feel the warmth of your skin beside mine once more. Let's run away to Sicily. I have some distant relatives there who would gladly keep us away and safe.

Your letter gave me something I thought I had lost, hope. I thought that after all this time, I would no longer be able to imagine the life we once dreamed of. But your words have brought it back, brought it back with such force that I cannot deny it. We will be together again, Rodulph. I know it, even if it seems impossible. We will fight through this war, through this darkness, and emerge stronger, together. Until then, I will hold on to the memory of you, to the dream of the day when we can finally be free of this separation. I know that when we meet again, all the pain of these years apart will melt away, and we will be the same as we once were, whole, unbroken, and full of love.

It is unbearable, the thought of having waited for you so long and still having to wait. But I know you will come back to me, Rodulph. The thought of that keeps me going. We will be together again, my love, and I will make sure that nothing keeps us apart. I will fight for us, just as you are fighting for us. I will keep you in my heart and hold on to the love that only you and I share. Your letter has been my salvation, and I can’t express enough how grateful I am for your words, your love, and your promise of the future.

Please, my love, stay safe. Come back to me. I will wait for you, for as long as it takes.

Forever yours,

Princess Isadora