They read as follows:
I am so weary. Why did you have to die, brother? I was never meant to be king. The nobles threaten revolt to bend me to their will. They will abandon me if I don't keep the peasants in their place. My position is hopeless.
I have come to realize my personal feelings are of no consequence. My people are dying, and they need their king. Our resistance starts today - and Lord Wynton, of all people, has provided the means. These reapers shall not have Westmarch! I swear my life on it!