Dear Victor,
I hope this letter reaches you in good health, wherever winter's chill has carried you. It has been two months since your last letter, and though I understand the weight of your responsibilities, I often wonder how you are. Time seems to stretch in your absence, as though the days themselves are reluctant to move forward without word from you. Yet I know that time must feel different for you now, where duty commands you every hour.
Winter has fully settled here. The lake has frozen over, the ice so thick and still that it feels as though it could last forever, though I know it will eventually thaw, as all things do. I walk by it often, finding strange comfort in its stillness, reminding me that beneath this cold, beneath the miles between us, we are still under the same sky.
I wonder how you are—if the burden of command weighs too heavily on you. I can only imagine the trials you face, so far from the quiet moments we once shared. I wish I could offer more than words, to be there to remind you of the strength that is yours, that you carry within you the resolve of a thousand men. I hope you still carry that with you, even now.
I've heard whispers of your courage, and how you've become a symbol of hope to those around you. I know that leadership often comes with great loneliness, but I hope you find some solace in knowing that others see the light within you, even if you do not. And if ever you doubt that strength, know that you are not alone in this. I may be far away, but my thoughts are with you, offering what little warmth and courage I can, even from this distance.
If you find even a brief moment to write, I would treasure it more than you know. Even a single word would be enough to remind me that you are still there, still fighting, still the Victor I know.
Until then, take care of yourself, and know that you are never far from my thoughts.
With my sincerest hopes,
Verina