"He doesn't know," Eleanore said quietly. "I can't even tell him. Letters take weeks to reach the front, if they reach him at all with the lines as unstable as they are."
"Then you write it anyway," Stella said gently. "You write it, and you send it, and you trust that it finds him. Because he deserves to know, even if it takes time to reach him. And because you deserve to not carry this alone, even from a distance."
Eleanore nodded slowly, blinking back the sudden sting of tears, relief and fear and hope all tangled together in a knot she didn't quite know how to unravel. "What if something happens to him before it reaches him? What if he never—"
"Don't," Stella said firmly, squeezing her hand. "Don't let your mind go there. Hael and Caelestis are both far too stubborn and strong to die on some battlefield when they have this much waiting for them at home. Hold onto that instead."
