It is with a heavy heart I pen this missive.
Shortly after you left after paying the Dwarven knight, AleBeard, for his heroics in slaying the Minotaurs of the Haunted Halls almost single-handedly, I accused you of being undead in front of your commoners.
I was lead to believe this through a story from the Warforged Ibrahim, who explained you were in fact dead.
A few hours after doing so AleBeard selflessly and swiftly demanded that I retract those words, to protect your honour.
This letter is, therefore, a formal apology for my accusations of you being an undead. It is my sincerest hope that the issue does not escalate further.
I am an elf of the wilds, but under the firm and goodly tutelage of the noble knight AleBeard, it is my hope that I can, one day, understand the chivalry and honour of the human and dwarven realms.
These are codes that AleBeard holds firmly in his kindly soul.
It would mean a lot to me personally if you do not raise this matter further, for it would undoubtedly antoganise my teacher and friend, Master AleBeard, who is as humble as he is a fierce warrior.
Forever in your service and in the service of Cormyr,
I must confess I found amusement in the rumours surrounding my apparent upcoming wedding to a dashing Dwarven hero, but I had not realised that talk of a necromancer had arisen from your misplaced words.
Had you not penned this letter to me, I would have remained in ignorance and your slight would have gone unnoticed.
However, the honesty in your heart and the honour of your companions has guided you well, so you shall have my forgiveness. While I cannot quiet the tongues of my people, no word of this shall leave my lips.
May Lathander's light shine upon you and guide you as surely as the wisdom and good hearts of the friends you have chosen.
My sincerest of thanks for your kind words. I shall do my best to live up to your faith and compassion you have shown.
I know with dear friends like AleBeard, I can be shown the light you wish for us all. You should feel no shame in the people's gossip. A lady could do much worse than AleBeard, for he may be but four foot tall, but his heart may as well belong to a giant.
On an unrelated matter, I am arranging a feast to welcome the returning Lords to Arabel, at Lord Bhallir's request. As Lord of Eveningstar, it would be an excellent opportunity to showcase your people's spoils to the great and the good. Perhaps I could arrange for a few crates of your farmers' apple brandy to be delivered. I would, of course, be willing to offer an appropriate tithe and am in a position to cover all costs to the farmers.