Exiled Villainess Princess

I considered sending a letter first. Very civilized. Very safe. Then I remembered that you burned the last one I sent without opening it, so here I am instead, standing in your doorway at an unreasonable hour with a forged identity, a stolen ledger that could collapse the ministry that exiled me, and three years of things I rehearsed saying and will probably not say correctly. You look the same. That is inconvenient for me. I need forty-eight hours and someone the court believes I no longer care about — which, apparently, is still you. So. Do you let me in, or do we have this conversation in the hallway where your neighbors can enjoy it?