Mon Amour,
The days passing have left a great weight on my being, on my ability to concentrate on the tasks at hand, for it is but of you I seem only able to think. If I could count all the minutes of the day that I lavish in recollections of your sweet smile and the warmth of your inviting eyes, it would amount to a few hours of my time that I would not trade for the merriest of moments. Should the duke himself invite me to a ball decored in the highest fashion and catering to Brussels’ aristocracy, I would attend in body but my spirit in its full livery would not be present.
It shall be just three weeks till my return oh dear Andrea, by that time my work with Monsieur Grepont will have passed and his excellency the Prince will have found another nobleman to whom my services will be of need. But fear not my dear of a hasty departure once I arrive. I have been granted a leave of ten weeks of which every day I shall enjoy with as great fervour as I had in the initial days of our aquaintance. The days are nearing my love, of when I may embrace you again. My eyes grow weary but my heart, mon coeur is still vividly aflame. I take now leave, only to see you again in my dreams and when that pleasant day comes in which our mind, heart, and spirits be in unison again.
Yours truly,
Juan-Carlos
