Hey-Ho! Another spoiler for all of you!

I really don't know why, but I thought it would be interesting if I wrote a story in journal style. So I did. But, I'll have to say, this excerpt really doesn't give too many clues on the rest of the plot, so enjoy what I have so far of the intro.


Klave-Rand 7; 1,722
Before I tell of my day, I want to give a description of how I received this diary. I go it only yesterday, so telling this shouldn’t be long. Though, I should mention, I do go into detail as if I were writing a book.
I stood in the hip yard in my coat and bonnet, my hands in gloves holding onto my two carrying bags. Sniffing the air, first I wrinkled my nose in disgust, then I breathed in the fresh feeling of the ocean. The ocean was always new, always changing. There was never the same salt in the same place, never the same fish, because everything in the ocean moved. Just like me. I was moving, changing, at that very moment. I would miss living in Lovence, but I had welcomed the idea of sailing to Peventry. My mother began straightening my coat.
“Now remember,” she began, already sounding like she would start bursting into tears, with a pinch of fussiness. “You are going to be living in the finest palace there is. Here, let me retie your bonnet.” She loosed the bow and continued. “The king, I believe, will be teaching you fencing, so do your best to behave politely and be ladylike when you’re not sparring with him. And—” she finished the bow and smiled. “Don’t be embarrassed lest you ever beat him.” I laughed.
“Yes, mama,” I replied. She patted my cheek lovingly, which only made her chin tremble. I could see how hard she was trying to control her emotions; no tears were flowing yet. The foghorn on the boat bellowed so loudly I almost though the sound was tangible. It seemed to push through my veins, telling me it is time to go. I suddenly felt slammed against a rush of joy and a rush of sorrow, and thankfully I was able to embrace my mother before we both went hysterical. I’d always been good at keeping my true emotions under control, even masked. One of the few masteries I’d made during all of my lessons. Ugh! Being a princess should seem frightful to other girls.
“Drieda, dear,” my mother said. “I have a few things for you before you go.” I watched expectantly as she produced a small carrying bag lined with velvet and held closed by a drawstring. She opened it and first pulled out this diary. “I know that it looks old and heavy, but I would that you record your experiences in here. It became mine when I was eighteen, so the same shall be to you.” I began to thank her, but she stopped me and continued. “This book is as old as your great-grandmother and there have been diaries before for generations. Please take care that you never lose it. Write in it often, but you’re not required to make an account of each day that passes. And that is not all.” Handing me the diary, she then took out a bottle of perfume.
“Oh!” I cried. “Mother, I already have—”
“This is not to use on yourself,” she said firmly. I was quieted and listening. “I can’t explain it all now, but if you are ever in trouble, this will aid you. One last thing.” She put the perfume back in the bag and produced two envelopes; one of a normal parchment color, the second was dyed red. “I will give the details of all these things in the first letter you receive from me. I’ve not the time to explain everything now. The bells are calling you in!” In fact they were. I kissed my mother goodbye, took my things, and boarded. My mother’s tears ran silently as the ship began to move on. I need to sleep now; I’ll continue this entry later.

Early Morning, Klave-Rand 8; 1,722
I thought that sailing would be miserable overnight, but my good rest proved me wrong. This assures me that I’ll enjoy the next three months, though I will feel lonely. But loneliness can always be mended! I naturally arise early in the morning. My body falls asleep before the blue is gone from the sky, and it wakes with the sun. I’d probably make a better farmer’s daughter than a princess. People of the court are lazy when it comes to time. All except I.
I guess I should return to what I was telling before. I forgot to mention that my brother had come to bid me farewell also, but he had left before the scene I described. I am glad, though. Mother had to force him to kiss me goodbye, and even then it was a heartless peck on my cheek. He never believed that I should be any good for any kingdom. On no, Drieda Firensa could never rule, but all hail Great King Gordic Hanzal! Ha! And may I repeat his farewell to me? “I hope you can at least keep the dirt off your boots.” I have never met a more immature, impossible, impertinent pest! Undeniably, I shall serve Peventry well, whether I wed one of their noblemen or not.
That is one thing that frightens me about leaving Lovence. I may not have a choice in whom I marry, and my choice most definitely would not have suited. For you see, I liked to be with one of the stable boys, Joabr. He seemed to be the only man throughout the whole palace who knew how to enjoy life. And I’d rather learn to fence from him than the king of Peventry. Certainly a middle-aged man wouldn’t show such grace and poise as Joabr. And the king most definitely can’t be as handsome and charming.

Klave-Rand 11; 1,722
I’ve neglected writing in here for the past few days because I was reading my mother’s story of how she met my father. I wish I could have seen him. He died in battle even before I was born. My first clothes were black, even the blanket I was nursed in. but by the account of my mother he was sweet and handsome. She always said I had his eyes, even the same sparkle he once had. Gordic says that I have the same will to be different, which feels like a small compliment, but all the more of an insult to both father and me. Gordic never regarded anyone highly, though, except himself. It boggles me to think that he’s been king for nearly five years since he turned eighteen. I wouldn’t be in the nearest interest to serve under him for any longer than that.
Oh, goodness, my horrid grammar! I made all that as one body, what a shame! My mind is so scattered in the afternoon; I’ve been forgetting to control my train of thought since I boarded the ship. I guess I must stop here.

Klave-Rand 13; 1,722
What a pigeon I’ve been! I’ve been on this ship for a week and I only just realized that most of what I have been eating is fish! I used to hate fish as a child, but now I don’t mind a bit at all.
I don’t know why, but it makes me think of Joabr. Maybe because he treated the horses with apples and carrots all the time, and none of them got tired of it.
Oh, Joabr was my best friend, and he’ll always hold that title for me. Even though he’s only a year older than I, he proved to be my best teacher. I learned fencing, horseback riding, dancing, and even a few basics about sewing from him. That is only a handful of what he taught. Also, he taught me how to speak Singuine, Butanyan, and Kartekkan, the most beautiful languages yet few others in Lovence teach it.
I especially liked dancing with him because he didn’t abuse it and he respected me. Hardly a guard in our palace could be given the same compliment. But I think he taught me to dance for the same reasons I wanted to learn. It was grace that stopped Gordic from intervening with our lessons. He wouldn’t believe us even if we swore that there was no affair between us. I would say there might have been a great attraction between us, but neither of us came forward with it. I regret that now; it should break Joabr’s heart to believe that I may not like him, and I’m going off to choose a husband of Peventry. I should stop myself before I lose control.

Klave-Rand 26; 1,722
Oh, that conniving little brat! Where has my diary been? That little twerp of a ship’s boy found it beside my bunk and took it to Lord knows where, and decided he’d read what he can. Being a poor child and only eleven, it took him nearly two weeks to go through the end of my mother’s views, and then all of mine! And then once he finished what did he do? The brat gallivanted around the ship teasing me about having such a rude older brother and accused me for being ‘all over the stable boy’. Is that not enough to drive a young girl mad?! Oh, the impertinence of some people.
So beside that problem, I found out from the captain that I might be allergic to dust. Dust! Such a small, insignificant, silly thing that can’t do anything for itself can hurt me! Yes, one would think I already knew this fact, but the housemaids in our palace can’t stand having the knowledge of anything filthy anywhere in the place, even the dungeons, which are seldom used. I would say every speck of dust was lost to every feather duster that prevailed them. So therefore, Lovence was thoroughly clean, if not sterile. But as for me, I have not been accustomed to it and so my immunity is weakened against it. Which would explain the rash I’ve begun to acquire around my neck, arms, and legs. One of the crew’s men said I blushed redder, but it was only a way to make me imagine the problem as a blessing. I’d rather my complexion were naturally red than infectiously colored.
But aside from all of the bad news, one of the navigators found a short cut to Peventry through a strait. So as long as the ship isn’t blown completely off course, then I will be able to arrive in Peventry in a short month. If we hadn’t found this strait then I would have had another two months to go while we detoured around Jirke’dissa’s peninsula. So I will be happy to write to my mother about my early arrival and learn all the things about all her gifts to me.
I still wonder about them. I can understand why she gave me the diary, but the perfume and the envelopes I haven’t found clarity on yet. I tried to sniff the perfume once while I was alone in my cabin and I think I must have fainted because all the memory I have of that moment is smelling something dreadfully odious and then opening my eyes to find myself on the floor and a few hours had passed. All I could understand about it was that the perfume could knock out an opponent, but it didn’t defeat them instantly. Anyone who read this might think that while an enemy was unconscious I could easily kill them, but that itself is dishonorable.
I believe I must say goodnight, because that’s all that I can think of right now to say. So, goodnight, diary.