Written By Juliet
May 16, 2017, 2 a.m.(6/20/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Angelo
I'd write so happily about young love, but my cousin Lord Angelo is older than me. Still, it does my heart good to find him finally braving the world again, and to see his efforts rewarded in turn. I can only hope his match turns out as good as Lord Inigo did for our beloved Duchess Calista.
I'm also excited to meet Duchess Rubino, as Lord Angelo seems to think we will get on quite well.
I'm also excited to meet Duchess Rubino, as Lord Angelo seems to think we will get on quite well.
Written By Juliet
May 10, 2017, 10:47 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
After months of siege, stepping outside the city walls was a delight.
Sanctum was interesting. The wedding ceremony was everything I expected from the Oathlands. I'm glad I had good company.
The Telmarch is an interesting place, and there are some grand vistas from the castle walls.
Sanctum was interesting. The wedding ceremony was everything I expected from the Oathlands. I'm glad I had good company.
The Telmarch is an interesting place, and there are some grand vistas from the castle walls.
Written By Juliet
May 10, 2017, 8:51 a.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
I've taken my time writing this journal. I've thought a lot of the events of the siege.
My life has taken bizarre turns. I sometimes look back at the young woman who arrived in Arx, and wonder if there were any signs she could have spotted, that would have indicated where her life would lead.
I recall reading a journal, a scant day or so after the siege had broken. Lamenting the loss of the nameless ones. The ones who won't be remembered. It stayed with me.
I have been called hero. I have been asked how it feels to know there will be songs about me that will go down centuries.
Unfair. That is how it feels. What did I do that they didn't? The ones who didn't live, the ones whose names we've already lost, and the ones who will be lost in a lifetime.
I confided in someone very close to me, and he told me this is no different from any other battles. That every war will have its heroes, and that those heroes are there to represent the others. That they become symbols. An inspiration, to fight again, when it is necessary.
With that in mind, I will offer my own account of the Battle with Tolamar Brand.
In the aftermath, we learned that Tolamar Brand entered the city by shattering the walls of the Thrax ward, and slipping away in the confusion. When we next saw him, he was followed by a small group of Abandoned and others, keeping a distance, and slipping away to cause havoc elsewhere. We put our thrust in the defenses of the city, and focused instead on the man.
His mere presence was that of the eye of a storm, a storm that served to rip and tear apart buildings and cobblestone, that splintered wood and shattered stone. But the gods, as Lord Killian wrote, held their hands over us.
It is a curious thing, to realise who you are. And all that makes you, you.
It is devastating to face who you are and stop. A soul-searing agony of existence as pain, of every memory another sharp cut that tears at your soul.
I expect, then, that this was how he would defeat us - to have us accept his gospel and surrender ourself to oblivion, having listened to his lies.
Unfortunately, my flight through my own mind brought me to a sanctum. A place full of depictions of myself, and of mirrors, and everywhere I saw my eyes, I saw baleful judgement.
It is a common truth that we can be our own harshest critics - that knowing ourselves and our work intimately, we will find flaws that others do not think to look at.
It is a devotion of the Mirrormasks to gaze into the mirror, and study ourselves inflinchingly. To pick at every weakness, as we decide who we wish to be.
I heard my reflection speak to me before. And it told me I would doom the world. And I ignored it and I pressed on.
Now, I was trapped, in a room full of my reflections, all glaring at me, all so sure of my failure.
So I ignored them, and I pressed on.
Like Lord Killian, I awoke to cacophony - from one nightmare to another. Words grow weak trying to describe what we saw, but we had each other, and we had a solid floor beneath us, and we had an enemy before us. I made sure everyone was stirring, was at the ready. We all did, we all helped each other.
I had a reputation in Tor for a wicked tongue. That I could leave as cut a nasty as any master duellist would, using only my words. I expect it is an exaggeration, but I did try. I berated the Herald of Unmaking. I called out his foolishness in driving me to the core of my being, expecting anything other than enemies that had grown stronger with what he did. I intended to anger him, unbalance him, and Lord Killian is right that I was the first to run towards him, that I was the first to raise my sword, though Mirror's Edge was never intended to strike at Tolamar Brand.
It is a mirrored blade. And by feinting, I managed to catch the light of one of the lamps that had survived. I managed to reflect it into the creature's eyes. I angered him, and I blinded him, and I left him open for a strike from the Paladin of Freedom. To an arrow from the Paladin of Groves. To further strikes from the Paladin of Swords and the Paladin of Ideals.
I struck at him later, demanding his attention again, as he was constantly shifting. I'm not sure if he was moving or changing. But I saw the things he did to my fellows, and I got his attention, and he grabbed me. I felt ribs crack and my arms burn as his claws of bone and wood and other things dug into them. I imagine if he'd been left to it, he would have torn me apart.
He was not left to it.
Lord Killian described well how the Paladin of Freedom grabbed hold of him, and his was a sight that I was not granted, so I cannot tell if there was divine providence in what was done. I can tell you that to the last, the creature was fighting, was lashing out, even as the Paladin of Swords cut his head off.
We had heard reports that bringers often spread their blight in a virulent and explosive fashion when they die. So it was with Tolamar Brand; his very form, utterly inhuman, was bubbling and expanding. Was turning into something else, and I knew that only I could stop it from tainting the Hall of Heroes further. So I called on the power of Reflection, that had been granted me, and I turned that virulent unmaking inwards. I shielded my fellows and the hall, and I am glad to say that I was successful. I felt Lord Killian do -something-, but I did not know what, until later. Like he wrote, perhaps that was when the others bound to Tolamar Brand and joining him in his abyssal service, all collapsed in on themselves quite literally.
I was exhausted. I think we all were. And then we watched the Paladin of Groves work her miracle, and undo some of the destruction Brand had caused.
And I knew, truly, that we had won, and that Brand would be defeated utterly. Not just in battle, not just his army, but that we would be able to form new beginnings from the end he had thought to bring upon us.
So if I am to be an inspiration, consider this: As long as there is life, there is hope. Nothing is fated, no end without a new beginning. And some will give their lives so that others may live and thrive. I know I will spend my life remembering and celebrating the people who fought, and those who died on the walls and in the Buroughs and Wards of Arx. The ones who held back the tide so that the five got their shot. The ones who saved us.
Respectfully,
Lady Juliet Fidante, Paladin of Reflection.
My life has taken bizarre turns. I sometimes look back at the young woman who arrived in Arx, and wonder if there were any signs she could have spotted, that would have indicated where her life would lead.
I recall reading a journal, a scant day or so after the siege had broken. Lamenting the loss of the nameless ones. The ones who won't be remembered. It stayed with me.
I have been called hero. I have been asked how it feels to know there will be songs about me that will go down centuries.
Unfair. That is how it feels. What did I do that they didn't? The ones who didn't live, the ones whose names we've already lost, and the ones who will be lost in a lifetime.
I confided in someone very close to me, and he told me this is no different from any other battles. That every war will have its heroes, and that those heroes are there to represent the others. That they become symbols. An inspiration, to fight again, when it is necessary.
With that in mind, I will offer my own account of the Battle with Tolamar Brand.
In the aftermath, we learned that Tolamar Brand entered the city by shattering the walls of the Thrax ward, and slipping away in the confusion. When we next saw him, he was followed by a small group of Abandoned and others, keeping a distance, and slipping away to cause havoc elsewhere. We put our thrust in the defenses of the city, and focused instead on the man.
His mere presence was that of the eye of a storm, a storm that served to rip and tear apart buildings and cobblestone, that splintered wood and shattered stone. But the gods, as Lord Killian wrote, held their hands over us.
It is a curious thing, to realise who you are. And all that makes you, you.
It is devastating to face who you are and stop. A soul-searing agony of existence as pain, of every memory another sharp cut that tears at your soul.
I expect, then, that this was how he would defeat us - to have us accept his gospel and surrender ourself to oblivion, having listened to his lies.
Unfortunately, my flight through my own mind brought me to a sanctum. A place full of depictions of myself, and of mirrors, and everywhere I saw my eyes, I saw baleful judgement.
It is a common truth that we can be our own harshest critics - that knowing ourselves and our work intimately, we will find flaws that others do not think to look at.
It is a devotion of the Mirrormasks to gaze into the mirror, and study ourselves inflinchingly. To pick at every weakness, as we decide who we wish to be.
I heard my reflection speak to me before. And it told me I would doom the world. And I ignored it and I pressed on.
Now, I was trapped, in a room full of my reflections, all glaring at me, all so sure of my failure.
So I ignored them, and I pressed on.
Like Lord Killian, I awoke to cacophony - from one nightmare to another. Words grow weak trying to describe what we saw, but we had each other, and we had a solid floor beneath us, and we had an enemy before us. I made sure everyone was stirring, was at the ready. We all did, we all helped each other.
I had a reputation in Tor for a wicked tongue. That I could leave as cut a nasty as any master duellist would, using only my words. I expect it is an exaggeration, but I did try. I berated the Herald of Unmaking. I called out his foolishness in driving me to the core of my being, expecting anything other than enemies that had grown stronger with what he did. I intended to anger him, unbalance him, and Lord Killian is right that I was the first to run towards him, that I was the first to raise my sword, though Mirror's Edge was never intended to strike at Tolamar Brand.
It is a mirrored blade. And by feinting, I managed to catch the light of one of the lamps that had survived. I managed to reflect it into the creature's eyes. I angered him, and I blinded him, and I left him open for a strike from the Paladin of Freedom. To an arrow from the Paladin of Groves. To further strikes from the Paladin of Swords and the Paladin of Ideals.
I struck at him later, demanding his attention again, as he was constantly shifting. I'm not sure if he was moving or changing. But I saw the things he did to my fellows, and I got his attention, and he grabbed me. I felt ribs crack and my arms burn as his claws of bone and wood and other things dug into them. I imagine if he'd been left to it, he would have torn me apart.
He was not left to it.
Lord Killian described well how the Paladin of Freedom grabbed hold of him, and his was a sight that I was not granted, so I cannot tell if there was divine providence in what was done. I can tell you that to the last, the creature was fighting, was lashing out, even as the Paladin of Swords cut his head off.
We had heard reports that bringers often spread their blight in a virulent and explosive fashion when they die. So it was with Tolamar Brand; his very form, utterly inhuman, was bubbling and expanding. Was turning into something else, and I knew that only I could stop it from tainting the Hall of Heroes further. So I called on the power of Reflection, that had been granted me, and I turned that virulent unmaking inwards. I shielded my fellows and the hall, and I am glad to say that I was successful. I felt Lord Killian do -something-, but I did not know what, until later. Like he wrote, perhaps that was when the others bound to Tolamar Brand and joining him in his abyssal service, all collapsed in on themselves quite literally.
I was exhausted. I think we all were. And then we watched the Paladin of Groves work her miracle, and undo some of the destruction Brand had caused.
And I knew, truly, that we had won, and that Brand would be defeated utterly. Not just in battle, not just his army, but that we would be able to form new beginnings from the end he had thought to bring upon us.
So if I am to be an inspiration, consider this: As long as there is life, there is hope. Nothing is fated, no end without a new beginning. And some will give their lives so that others may live and thrive. I know I will spend my life remembering and celebrating the people who fought, and those who died on the walls and in the Buroughs and Wards of Arx. The ones who held back the tide so that the five got their shot. The ones who saved us.
Respectfully,
Lady Juliet Fidante, Paladin of Reflection.
Written By Juliet
May 6, 2017, 10:48 a.m.(5/28/1006 AR)
Addendum to my last will and testament:
The painting known as "Skin and Roses, or is it", by Lord Percephon Telmar, shall be passed into the hands of Fortunato Grayhope, and may it always bring him joy.
The painting known as "Skin and Roses, or is it", by Lord Percephon Telmar, shall be passed into the hands of Fortunato Grayhope, and may it always bring him joy.
Written By Juliet
May 6, 2017, 9:58 a.m.(5/28/1006 AR)
This may well be my last journal entry (though perhaps I will visit the confession chamber and have a last black reflection scribed as well).
The towers draw near and the enemy prepares for battle. If I do die, I have broken a myriad of promises. I can only beg the forgiveness of both gods and humans in advance.
But I will make a promise I can keep.
I will do whatever is in my power to stop the end. I will raise my sword in defense of the Compact. I will die if I need to, and live if I can.
The last few months here have been interesting. Growing up, I hoped never to see war again.
Then I was a child. Helpless to do anything but worry and watch the horizon.
Fretting when another corpse-cart was brought back. Flinching from the wounds of the injured as they returned, constantly praying not to see familiar faces among them.
I am no longer a child.
The towers draw near and the enemy prepares for battle. If I do die, I have broken a myriad of promises. I can only beg the forgiveness of both gods and humans in advance.
But I will make a promise I can keep.
I will do whatever is in my power to stop the end. I will raise my sword in defense of the Compact. I will die if I need to, and live if I can.
The last few months here have been interesting. Growing up, I hoped never to see war again.
Then I was a child. Helpless to do anything but worry and watch the horizon.
Fretting when another corpse-cart was brought back. Flinching from the wounds of the injured as they returned, constantly praying not to see familiar faces among them.
I am no longer a child.
Written By Juliet
April 27, 2017, 4:26 a.m.(5/8/1006 AR)
Long overdue, but I've finally settled the matter of the invitation extended to me by the Most Radiant Selene Whisper. It will be a pleasure to serve as a patron of Whisper House as a whole, and I fully intend to enjoy the company of as many as possible of their fantastic courtesans. There's something to be said for the security in paying for the finest company that Arvum and Arx has to offer.
Written By Juliet
April 18, 2017, 12:09 p.m.(4/18/1006 AR)
Actual combat is quite different from spars. I don't usually spar wearing a seasilk dress, for one.
I've blooded and been bloodied. A new chapter of my life has begun. The creature attacking me is dead, thanks to Lord Ansel's deft touch. I got in a good hit, too. But mostly I kept it occupied.
While there were a number of wounded, nobody on our side died.
I think we owe a thanks to Lady Lailah Bisland at least in part for that.
Still following the doctor's orders.
I've blooded and been bloodied. A new chapter of my life has begun. The creature attacking me is dead, thanks to Lord Ansel's deft touch. I got in a good hit, too. But mostly I kept it occupied.
While there were a number of wounded, nobody on our side died.
I think we owe a thanks to Lady Lailah Bisland at least in part for that.
Still following the doctor's orders.
Written By Juliet
April 14, 2017, 1:43 p.m.(4/10/1006 AR)
Sparring again. Leathers and steel. Lady Niamh says I need to use Mirror's Edge to get used to her weight, how she handles, and she's right - and I do, every morning, get my ass handed to me. Even with Mirror's Edge in hand. I guess that says something about the quality of my instructor.
Today I hadn't gotten enough of a beating, so I visited the training centre. Met an iron guardswoman by the name of Harper Ashdown, who was happy to accept and/or offer a spar. I landed a hit when she overbalanced.
We'll just keep quiet about how many hits she landed.
Still, messere Ferrando says my form is improving.
Maybe I won't utterly embarrass myself when the time comes.
Today I hadn't gotten enough of a beating, so I visited the training centre. Met an iron guardswoman by the name of Harper Ashdown, who was happy to accept and/or offer a spar. I landed a hit when she overbalanced.
We'll just keep quiet about how many hits she landed.
Still, messere Ferrando says my form is improving.
Maybe I won't utterly embarrass myself when the time comes.
Written By Juliet
April 12, 2017, 7:29 p.m.(4/6/1006 AR)
Romance is such a strange thing. By the books, by the stories, it's a matter of roses and wine, and sweet surroundings by moonlight. To be watched by the stars as there are declarations of love. Oaths of Fidelity raised to the sky, in secret but kept, and so on. Deeds undertaken.
That's true. The deeds. But the deed is to say something both of the doer and the one honoured. Dead animals won't impress everyone.
Romance is about intimacy. It's about telling the person you are romancing that you care about them and their well-being. It's a little touch, one of familiarity, more often than not. That is one of the reasons whirlwind romance and early romantic gestures have such an effect - they speak, when successful, of someone who has learned of you and paid enough attention to you, to make you feel special and cared for.
I've been thinking a lot about romance lately.
Today, as if to provide me with an exquisite example for my journals, I received a very romantic message. To understand why it has romance is to understand not only me, but the woman who sent it.
Her letter was simple. It was not perfumed. And it contained two words:
"Don't die".
I don't expect people to understand why this is such a powerful letter to me. But it is. And the caress of those words are as intimate as any lover's whisper in the middle of the night.
I love you too.
That's true. The deeds. But the deed is to say something both of the doer and the one honoured. Dead animals won't impress everyone.
Romance is about intimacy. It's about telling the person you are romancing that you care about them and their well-being. It's a little touch, one of familiarity, more often than not. That is one of the reasons whirlwind romance and early romantic gestures have such an effect - they speak, when successful, of someone who has learned of you and paid enough attention to you, to make you feel special and cared for.
I've been thinking a lot about romance lately.
Today, as if to provide me with an exquisite example for my journals, I received a very romantic message. To understand why it has romance is to understand not only me, but the woman who sent it.
Her letter was simple. It was not perfumed. And it contained two words:
"Don't die".
I don't expect people to understand why this is such a powerful letter to me. But it is. And the caress of those words are as intimate as any lover's whisper in the middle of the night.
I love you too.
Written By Juliet
April 9, 2017, 11:35 a.m.(3/28/1006 AR)
The gods are making themselves known among us. I heard it said, yesterday - We lost her, and she lost us, we found her, and now... Now she has found us.
They were talking about the Queen of Endings, the Mother of Beginnings. She appeared before a crowd of mourners, celebrating the lives of those lost.
She elevated her chosen one.
I've said before that my life has taken the strangest turns. Not only in the things I have experienced, but in what I have witnessed.
I like it.
They were talking about the Queen of Endings, the Mother of Beginnings. She appeared before a crowd of mourners, celebrating the lives of those lost.
She elevated her chosen one.
I've said before that my life has taken the strangest turns. Not only in the things I have experienced, but in what I have witnessed.
I like it.
Written By Juliet
March 27, 2017, 10:18 a.m.(3/1/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Valkieri
Duke Valkieri Rubino once told me he was the last honest person in the Lyceum.
I was going to challenge him to a duel for that. It seemed the thing to do. A decent way to flirt.
I vividly remember the first time I talked to him. There had been a... thing. And he, full of righteous fury, asked me if I fuck my brother.
It was delightful in its absurdity, but it made sense for the people involved, I suppose. I told him I did not feel comfortable answering that question without conferring with my brother.
(Dante has since told me I may answer that question however I see fit, depending on what would bring the most amusement)
Duke Valkieri took it as confirmation and I asked him how far out the family tree he'd have to move before he was comfortable with coitus.
Sadly, Leo spoiled our fun. Though I will say my apology was genuine.
I'd only recently gotten to know him better. A chance encounter led to him inviting me places. I turned him down half the time, and I regret that. I did get to go to Princess Cara's wedding, however. With him and Duchess Dafne on my arms.
He hurt so much. He was so furious at the injustice of the world.
He told me he wasn't a good man.
I told him I'd never said he was a good man - just a virtuous one.
When I looked at him, I wanted to take his pain away.
I suppose the Mother of Beginnings will do it in my stead.
Goodbye, Valkieri. Please forgive me my lack of formality.
I was going to challenge him to a duel for that. It seemed the thing to do. A decent way to flirt.
I vividly remember the first time I talked to him. There had been a... thing. And he, full of righteous fury, asked me if I fuck my brother.
It was delightful in its absurdity, but it made sense for the people involved, I suppose. I told him I did not feel comfortable answering that question without conferring with my brother.
(Dante has since told me I may answer that question however I see fit, depending on what would bring the most amusement)
Duke Valkieri took it as confirmation and I asked him how far out the family tree he'd have to move before he was comfortable with coitus.
Sadly, Leo spoiled our fun. Though I will say my apology was genuine.
I'd only recently gotten to know him better. A chance encounter led to him inviting me places. I turned him down half the time, and I regret that. I did get to go to Princess Cara's wedding, however. With him and Duchess Dafne on my arms.
He hurt so much. He was so furious at the injustice of the world.
He told me he wasn't a good man.
I told him I'd never said he was a good man - just a virtuous one.
When I looked at him, I wanted to take his pain away.
I suppose the Mother of Beginnings will do it in my stead.
Goodbye, Valkieri. Please forgive me my lack of formality.
Written By Juliet
March 26, 2017, 1:13 a.m.(2/27/1006 AR)
"Your time to be the hero," she said. Then she gave me the pendant. To bring back safe to her.
I've kept it close to my heart since.
I have a lot of complex thoughts about my role in what is to come. I suppose it is only natural; mine is the path that faces the mirror head on. To see and acknowledge all facets of an issue as best we can.
Am I to be the hero? A hero, perhaps. Maybe that's history will have to say about me, if all goes well. Or well enough that there still is -a- history.
I don't feel like a hero.
I guess, ultimately, that doesn't matter. Who knows what heroes are supposed to feel like?
But I better act like one.
And I will do my best.
I've kept it close to my heart since.
I have a lot of complex thoughts about my role in what is to come. I suppose it is only natural; mine is the path that faces the mirror head on. To see and acknowledge all facets of an issue as best we can.
Am I to be the hero? A hero, perhaps. Maybe that's history will have to say about me, if all goes well. Or well enough that there still is -a- history.
I don't feel like a hero.
I guess, ultimately, that doesn't matter. Who knows what heroes are supposed to feel like?
But I better act like one.
And I will do my best.
Written By Juliet
March 18, 2017, 7:55 p.m.(2/12/1006 AR)
War approaches. I've found my place.
Places. I've got a multitude of duties here. Originally, I thought I'd be tending to logistics - looks as though I may be returning to that, for at least some of the time.
I've also gotten generous aid from friends and faith to ensure I won't face this coming battle unprepared.
I've looked into some of the rose-tanning techniques used by the Apothecary college. Providing leather that is both soft and flexible, yet durable. It's remarkable, really.
Still, even leather wears on me, too heavy for someone not used to it. Maybe the solution is to wear it more.
Places. I've got a multitude of duties here. Originally, I thought I'd be tending to logistics - looks as though I may be returning to that, for at least some of the time.
I've also gotten generous aid from friends and faith to ensure I won't face this coming battle unprepared.
I've looked into some of the rose-tanning techniques used by the Apothecary college. Providing leather that is both soft and flexible, yet durable. It's remarkable, really.
Still, even leather wears on me, too heavy for someone not used to it. Maybe the solution is to wear it more.
Written By Juliet
March 8, 2017, 8:21 a.m.(1/19/1006 AR)
A friend of mine once asked me to consider solitude - Fidelia is almost always in my rooms, and even when she's not there, I usually have Haldin these days.
But she asked me to spend a night alone, and I obliged her. I sent them away.
I think - hope - that I was able to get the lesson she wanted to teach me. When you are alone, when the noises of another living being does not fill up the empty spaces... You become more aware.
The crackle of the fire. The sounds of people going about their day through floor and walls. The distant sounds of the city.
And it allows for reflection. For earnest contemplation of what is and what will be and what was.
I've chased away solitude for many years now, in one way or another. I do not like being alone.
Thank you, my friend, for challenging me to stop and look back. To meet this old companion that I had all but forgotten.
Solitude is not so bad.
But she asked me to spend a night alone, and I obliged her. I sent them away.
I think - hope - that I was able to get the lesson she wanted to teach me. When you are alone, when the noises of another living being does not fill up the empty spaces... You become more aware.
The crackle of the fire. The sounds of people going about their day through floor and walls. The distant sounds of the city.
And it allows for reflection. For earnest contemplation of what is and what will be and what was.
I've chased away solitude for many years now, in one way or another. I do not like being alone.
Thank you, my friend, for challenging me to stop and look back. To meet this old companion that I had all but forgotten.
Solitude is not so bad.
Written By Juliet
March 4, 2017, 1:40 p.m.(1/12/1006 AR)
By all accounts I missed a spectacular set of duels last night. The old me would be lamenting duty and responsibility, how it held me away from fun.
Yet... I find that - if I can't witness these events myself, I will cherish the retellings of those that did.
That said, with what little I've heard, I wonder if I can feel some kinship with Lady Magden. I have, too, felt furiously upset with my family when I felt they didn't support me.
I once threatened Duke Leo with running away, and joining Whisper House or the Faith. I think it's the only time I've actually seen him mad, rather than resigned or disappointed.
And seeing him mad stopped me in my tracks. He advised me, with restraint, to reconsider until morning.
Of course I didn't leave my family. I love them. I imagine, when not feeling trapped and caught and with her pride wounded, Lady Magden loves her family as well.
As Lady Lydia writes in her own journals, I hope they can all move part this, and find forgiveness in each other.
Yet... I find that - if I can't witness these events myself, I will cherish the retellings of those that did.
That said, with what little I've heard, I wonder if I can feel some kinship with Lady Magden. I have, too, felt furiously upset with my family when I felt they didn't support me.
I once threatened Duke Leo with running away, and joining Whisper House or the Faith. I think it's the only time I've actually seen him mad, rather than resigned or disappointed.
And seeing him mad stopped me in my tracks. He advised me, with restraint, to reconsider until morning.
Of course I didn't leave my family. I love them. I imagine, when not feeling trapped and caught and with her pride wounded, Lady Magden loves her family as well.
As Lady Lydia writes in her own journals, I hope they can all move part this, and find forgiveness in each other.
Written By Juliet
March 2, 2017, 3:03 a.m.(1/7/1006 AR)
Today has been tumultous.
It started with tears and earnest confessions, and ended in them too.
That in itself isn't too unusual, I suppose, though I've been crying a lot lately, for good or bad.
I was invited to attend Duke Valkieri Rubino to his sister's wedding at rather short notice, but - how could I say no?
The ceremony was beautiful. The bride and groom very lovely and very handsome together.
She will make a wonderful princess, as Lady Dafne said.
And Grayson could scarcely do better - but then, I think they already knew that.
I was sorry to have to leave so quickly, but I had spiritual duties to attend to.
And then my night turned very strange indeed.
I look forward to writing on that, some time.
It started with tears and earnest confessions, and ended in them too.
That in itself isn't too unusual, I suppose, though I've been crying a lot lately, for good or bad.
I was invited to attend Duke Valkieri Rubino to his sister's wedding at rather short notice, but - how could I say no?
The ceremony was beautiful. The bride and groom very lovely and very handsome together.
She will make a wonderful princess, as Lady Dafne said.
And Grayson could scarcely do better - but then, I think they already knew that.
I was sorry to have to leave so quickly, but I had spiritual duties to attend to.
And then my night turned very strange indeed.
I look forward to writing on that, some time.
Written By Juliet
Feb. 26, 2017, 3:10 p.m.(12/28/1005 AR)
They still deliver copies of her white journals - I don't want them to stop doing that.
I still read - and my first instinct is to reach for my pen, to scribe a letter.
To be there. To comfort. To tell her to come to me and let me hold her and drive away the darkness. It's a foolish notion, I know. A selfish one, even. We can't drive away the darkness, we can only pretend it's not there, for a little while. But sometimes, that is necessary. Sometimes you need the joy and the laughter and the kisses and the touches before you can go back to whatever it is you do to keep the world turning.
But I miss being the soft girl.
I miss being with her.
I hope that she will return to me again.
I still read - and my first instinct is to reach for my pen, to scribe a letter.
To be there. To comfort. To tell her to come to me and let me hold her and drive away the darkness. It's a foolish notion, I know. A selfish one, even. We can't drive away the darkness, we can only pretend it's not there, for a little while. But sometimes, that is necessary. Sometimes you need the joy and the laughter and the kisses and the touches before you can go back to whatever it is you do to keep the world turning.
But I miss being the soft girl.
I miss being with her.
I hope that she will return to me again.
Written By Juliet
Feb. 26, 2017, 8:15 a.m.(12/27/1005 AR)
I have once again been accorded a great honour - to serve at the late High Lord Donrai Thrax's funeral, and see him off with the rites of passing beyond the mirror.
House Thrax was kind in their treatment of me, and I did my best to return their kindness and respect in this, their time of mourning. Prince Donrai inspired a lot of complex feelings that were on display at the wake.
Prince Valerius, Prince Abbas, and Lord Darrow all spoke of him, sharing memories and how he'd shaped them. Others were more private in theirs. The High Lord was seen off with advice for his next life, and with High Lord Victus lighting the pyre. May Lagoma's flame have purified him of his sins, and may the Thirteenth have judged him with compassion.
House Thrax was kind in their treatment of me, and I did my best to return their kindness and respect in this, their time of mourning. Prince Donrai inspired a lot of complex feelings that were on display at the wake.
Prince Valerius, Prince Abbas, and Lord Darrow all spoke of him, sharing memories and how he'd shaped them. Others were more private in theirs. The High Lord was seen off with advice for his next life, and with High Lord Victus lighting the pyre. May Lagoma's flame have purified him of his sins, and may the Thirteenth have judged him with compassion.
Written By Juliet
Feb. 19, 2017, 6:41 a.m.(12/13/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Natalia
There's a pouch where I keep two rings. They have the same inscription. They represented happy memories. A time gone by.
In my wardrobe hangs dresses. Fine gifts. And yet my heart aches when I look at them.
I wish her the best. I hope she finds what she was looking for.
I wish I could share her triumphs and comfort her in her sorrows.
I miss the sister I had.
In my wardrobe hangs dresses. Fine gifts. And yet my heart aches when I look at them.
I wish her the best. I hope she finds what she was looking for.
I wish I could share her triumphs and comfort her in her sorrows.
I miss the sister I had.
Written By Juliet
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:07 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
Life makes fools of us all. We were so busy, darling.
But we found time, didn't we? At last.
I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.
But I'll cherish the memory.
They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.
They said your hair was pristine.
Good.
But we found time, didn't we? At last.
I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.
But I'll cherish the memory.
They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.
They said your hair was pristine.
Good.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.