Sunday, January 27
As I write this, I am sitting on a pile of filthy blankets, raven feathers, stained glass windows, history books in a far northern dialect of dwarfish, and a fair number of enchanted maps. Rather, I hope they’re enchanted, because they recently developed a habit of talking to me. I suppose you’ll be wondering why I am here. Maybe I’ll tell you. After, that is, I find a way down out of this tree and up through the surface of the lake. I am now sure you’re terribly confused. A lady should offer a sincere apology to you now, and possibly an invitation to afternoon tea, if you should like it. Sadly for you, part of the reason I am up…down… the reason I am here is because I am not, through any amount of lecturing, cajoling, finishing school, threats, and other such things, a lady. So, if you should like, I could offer you the map that is telling me I should not start my diary in such a rude way, and finally rid myself of it. That particular map has been a bother for the whole three weeks I’ve been up…down… the whole three weeks I’ve been here. I would care to explain further, but I believe I hear someone coming. I must try and find my sword- bother!
I hereby feel it is necessary to inform the reader of this inappropriate and incorrect text that I am not bothersome or burdensome. I do not require anyone, much less a lady of Katrina’s status, to get rid of me. I am too well-mannered to require any such task of a lady of Katrina’s status. I do, however, apologize correctly for her since she failed to-
Monday, January 28
Sorry about that, the map found my pen. I couldn’t find my sword, but holding a stained glass window over my head menacingly had the same general effect on the King. Please, don’t misunderstand, I didn’t hurt him! I would never do such a thing. But it is getting tiring to challenge everyone who comes down here to a duel. There are so many of them. Everyone seems to think that they can change my mind in three minutes when I’ve shown quite well that I’m strong-willed and disobedient all fourteen years of my life. I am not letting them go and use me as a prize. ‘My daughter’s hand in marriage, hmm? Let’s see what your daughter thinks about that,’ I said. And so I went to go negotiate with the cursed dragon. Naturally, things would go wrong. Maybe I’ll even explain that a little later. If I put on an airy grin and make my eyes go wide, and maybe bat my lashes a few times, I can almost convince myself that I am my sister Helena and ‘see the bright side of things’. See? If I’m stuck down here for all of eternity or until I agree to be a bribe for an unethical contest, why don’t I see the bright side of things? Why, it gives me plenty of time to find my sword before the next blundering knight or lost hero or duke or king comes down here, sweet- talking and courting with me! And plenty of time to think about what I could do that would be painful to this map, which is trying to make a quill out of one of the raven feathers in the pile I am sitting on. I think I’ll consider that for a little while.
Thursday, January 31
Well, I’m getting quite tired of this. I do wish the dragon had studied his spell a little more before trying this. For his sake, too. The poor thing is probably lost. Anyways, I had no visitors at all since my last entry. I would say I’m thankful, except that I almost wish someone would come down here and help me back up. It’s boring down here. And the map, which has taken to spouting about honor and duty and knights of old and other such nonsense. I’m getting rather mad at it, because these tales tend to have sweet, beautiful, empty headed princesses, most of them blonde. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go talk to that raven again.
Friday, February 1
This is a very typical case of be careful what you wish for. It started yesterday, shortly after I stopped writing. Someone came, although not from the leftover knot of magic from the dear dragon’s spell. He fell from above, which is a long way to fall, crashing through branches and shouting profanity all the way. I tried to catch him, but he fell by me as soon as I crawled out on the limb. It broke, carrying me down with him in a tangle of my ruined silk dress, his soaking wet leggings, branches, and limbs. When we finally hit the ground, he ever-so-kindly landed below me, cushioning my fall. I rose and tried to salvage the remains of my dignity, for the bodice of my dress had been torn something awful on the way down. I turned the other way and, saying all the things a proper lady shouldn’t say, cursed him for tearing it and, worse yet, for looking. He wasn’t listening, though. He was curled in a ball, still keeping a steady stream of profanity, albeit a much fainter one. I frowned.
“Who are you anyways? You fall from above, so the shield is now leaking water and ruining my dress, you knock me down, tear my dress, and are now all but bawling like a baby.â€
As I write this, I am sitting on a pile of filthy blankets, raven feathers, stained glass windows, history books in a far northern dialect of dwarfish, and a fair number of enchanted maps. Rather, I hope they’re enchanted, because they recently developed a habit of talking to me. I suppose you’ll be wondering why I am here. Maybe I’ll tell you. After, that is, I find a way down out of this tree and up through the surface of the lake. I am now sure you’re terribly confused. A lady should offer a sincere apology to you now, and possibly an invitation to afternoon tea, if you should like it. Sadly for you, part of the reason I am up…down… the reason I am here is because I am not, through any amount of lecturing, cajoling, finishing school, threats, and other such things, a lady. So, if you should like, I could offer you the map that is telling me I should not start my diary in such a rude way, and finally rid myself of it. That particular map has been a bother for the whole three weeks I’ve been up…down… the whole three weeks I’ve been here. I would care to explain further, but I believe I hear someone coming. I must try and find my sword- bother!
I hereby feel it is necessary to inform the reader of this inappropriate and incorrect text that I am not bothersome or burdensome. I do not require anyone, much less a lady of Katrina’s status, to get rid of me. I am too well-mannered to require any such task of a lady of Katrina’s status. I do, however, apologize correctly for her since she failed to-
Monday, January 28
Sorry about that, the map found my pen. I couldn’t find my sword, but holding a stained glass window over my head menacingly had the same general effect on the King. Please, don’t misunderstand, I didn’t hurt him! I would never do such a thing. But it is getting tiring to challenge everyone who comes down here to a duel. There are so many of them. Everyone seems to think that they can change my mind in three minutes when I’ve shown quite well that I’m strong-willed and disobedient all fourteen years of my life. I am not letting them go and use me as a prize. ‘My daughter’s hand in marriage, hmm? Let’s see what your daughter thinks about that,’ I said. And so I went to go negotiate with the cursed dragon. Naturally, things would go wrong. Maybe I’ll even explain that a little later. If I put on an airy grin and make my eyes go wide, and maybe bat my lashes a few times, I can almost convince myself that I am my sister Helena and ‘see the bright side of things’. See? If I’m stuck down here for all of eternity or until I agree to be a bribe for an unethical contest, why don’t I see the bright side of things? Why, it gives me plenty of time to find my sword before the next blundering knight or lost hero or duke or king comes down here, sweet- talking and courting with me! And plenty of time to think about what I could do that would be painful to this map, which is trying to make a quill out of one of the raven feathers in the pile I am sitting on. I think I’ll consider that for a little while.
Thursday, January 31
Well, I’m getting quite tired of this. I do wish the dragon had studied his spell a little more before trying this. For his sake, too. The poor thing is probably lost. Anyways, I had no visitors at all since my last entry. I would say I’m thankful, except that I almost wish someone would come down here and help me back up. It’s boring down here. And the map, which has taken to spouting about honor and duty and knights of old and other such nonsense. I’m getting rather mad at it, because these tales tend to have sweet, beautiful, empty headed princesses, most of them blonde. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go talk to that raven again.
Friday, February 1
This is a very typical case of be careful what you wish for. It started yesterday, shortly after I stopped writing. Someone came, although not from the leftover knot of magic from the dear dragon’s spell. He fell from above, which is a long way to fall, crashing through branches and shouting profanity all the way. I tried to catch him, but he fell by me as soon as I crawled out on the limb. It broke, carrying me down with him in a tangle of my ruined silk dress, his soaking wet leggings, branches, and limbs. When we finally hit the ground, he ever-so-kindly landed below me, cushioning my fall. I rose and tried to salvage the remains of my dignity, for the bodice of my dress had been torn something awful on the way down. I turned the other way and, saying all the things a proper lady shouldn’t say, cursed him for tearing it and, worse yet, for looking. He wasn’t listening, though. He was curled in a ball, still keeping a steady stream of profanity, albeit a much fainter one. I frowned.
“Who are you anyways? You fall from above, so the shield is now leaking water and ruining my dress, you knock me down, tear my dress, and are now all but bawling like a baby.â€