“Dear Lady Pinkerton,
Let us fault His Majesty not for his good intentions, but only for his inability to put such longing into words. For certain your charm would turn even the most articulate of men into bumbling fools. I will beg you to think kindly on our own wretched attempts to flatter one whose praises could only be spelled out in the poetry of ocean waves and the song of distant thunder.
A most humble Joker
P.S. Can I have some more macarons?”