My Dearest Abigail,

The ink is scarcely dry upon the pages of our farewell, and yet, I find myself compelled to write to you with a fervor I cannot contain, as if by putting pen to parchment, I might bridge the vast and insurmountable distance between us. Though the sails have only begun to stretch toward the horizon, already I am acutely aware of the void your absence has created within me. It is as though a vital part of my very being remains anchored to the shores of Lionwood, left behind in your keeping, while the rest of me is cast adrift upon these indifferent seas.

The Liberty Venture, our pride and joy, bears the mark of our ambition in every plank and sail. She cuts through the waves like an arrow loosed from the hand of a god, swift and true. I stand upon her deck with a swelling sense of triumph, for in her, I see the manifestation of all we have strived toward. She is not merely a vessel, Abigail—she is the embodiment of my will, tempered by your grace, the realization of a dream that would have been impossible without you beside me.

Captain Grey, that venerable mariner whose reputation is second only to the sea itself, carries the weight of command with a dignity befitting his years. His voice, a steady rumble like distant thunder, keeps the men in line with naught but a glance. There is no one more suited to guide us through these waters than he, and under his command, I feel a sense of security, though it is nothing compared to the solace I find in your love. I have often heard it said that a man who ventures upon the ocean must surrender his heart to its wild and fickle embrace, but I say to you now, my dearest, that my heart remains firmly yours, no matter how far these winds may carry me.

The first day of our voyage has been marked by fair skies and favorable winds, and yet, I cannot help but feel a certain melancholy as I gaze out upon the endless expanse of water. The sea, though vast and awe-inspiring, is nothing compared to the depth of affection I bear for you. I could cross every ocean, Abigail, and still find no sight so dear as your face, no sound so sweet as your voice. The stars themselves, brilliant though they are, seem cold and distant when set against the warmth of your presence.

And yet, I am bound to this journey, as inexorably as the tides are bound to the moon. There is business to be done, fortunes to be made, and I shall not rest until I have secured for us a future worthy of all we have endured. The Liberty Venture carries not only the weight of our enterprise but the hopes and dreams of a life we shall build together, once I return to you. Every gust of wind, every billow of her sails, draws me closer to that moment, though it may seem far off now.

As I sit here, quill in hand, I think of our children. Thomas, no doubt, has already declared himself the man of the house in my absence, and I can only imagine the gleam in his eye as he dreams of the adventures that await him when he, too, is of an age to set sail. He is so much like you, Abigail—his spirit, fierce and unyielding, tempered by a tenderness that belies his years. And Elizabeth—our sweet, gentle girl—how I miss the sound of her laughter, the light of her smile. I carry her latest sketch with me, a small token of her affection, and it serves as a constant reminder of the love that binds us all, no matter the distance.

The night is upon us now, and the sea has grown quiet, save for the steady lapping of the waves against the hull. It is in these moments, when the world falls still and the weight of my solitude presses most heavily upon me, that I feel your absence most keenly. Yet, I take comfort in the knowledge that you are safe at home, tending to our affairs with the same care and devotion you have always shown. And I know that, no matter how far I may roam, my heart shall always be anchored to you.

I shall write again soon, though I fear it may be some time before this letter reaches your hands. Until then, know that I am ever your faithful servant, and that no distance, no storm, no trial shall ever diminish the love I bear for you. I remain,

Yours, in body and soul,

Jonathan