Faustine ushers her sister into her room and closes the door behind her. She’s radiating excitement, so she takes a deep breath to settle herself. She carefully unfolds the clean parchment and passes it to Angel. “[color=ddc1da]Regarding the treaty? I think I’ve got something. A meeting. Either here or in a neutral territory, and we can work out the terms of a stalemate with [i]both[/i] rulers.[/color]” 
She clears her throat. “[color=ddc1da]I think they’d understand us wanting to meet here? I mean, they’re enhanced creatures. Though our recent technological and defensive advancements may be effective deterrents. Hmm.[/color]” She cuts herself off. “[color=ddc1da]I’m sorry, Angel. Ranting again. We need to set a meeting up. It’s important that [i]we[/i] initiate contact if we are to be seen as equals, rather than war trophies.[/color]”
The letter reflects her words, clearly and assertively requesting an in-person conclave with all three kingdoms. It requests that the parties bring reasonably minimal defensive equipment and a limited ensemble.