I am not sure how well my prince took my counsel. He has been called the mourning king, after all, a pun, I am sure, off of his chosen emblem. I fear the origins of that image were born in that gloomy chamber, for in its center is a bleeding heart pierced by the sword. Yet, my words must have had some effect, for behind this sorrowful center, the rays of a rising sun spread. The morning king, he is more rightly called. Let his dawn bring forth new joy from the bitter night, and a long and happy day.
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