Punzel's Private Journal

October the 22nd

Today starts my fifth week in Castle Marrach ... four weeks ago I did awake in this mysterious prison where I have made such good friends. I often find myself on the open ramparts, just holding out my arms and gazing at the sky, feeling the cold wind against my face. How I long to be outside, to feel grass, and the sun warm against my skin.

But it is cold here. And I know few folks well enough to allow touch between us. I find myself cold, and I do seek the fireplaces as often as I do seek the open ramparts.

Tonight I did speak at length with Ser Lobo -- whom I do sometimes call my Uncle, though only because I am so close friends with Katherine -- about my nightmare. He did help me to remember more detail, though I know not if I did want to know.

Mayhap this revelation to someone else, however, will exorcise the demons from my sleep.

I now retire, possibly to find them awaiting me again. Mayhap Ser Lobo has given me weapons with which to fight them.

October the 23rd

Oh no. Everything is terrible. And it's all her fault. That ... woman!

Well ... it's not all her fault ... I lost my temper. But the woman is maddening!

Today I did ask to speak with Sera Anastacia, in regards to the scroll I sent her some days ago, offering my friendship, because of my loyalty to her ... to her ... to Ser Martel.

So I spoke with her in the pantry, and did tell her that I would be her friend. And she did smile. And I did mention -- trying to be honest -- that I might not agree with everything she does, but that I would be her friend nonetheless, because of my affection for Martel. And she did frown, and I did attempt to reassure her ... I did tell her that she and I are different people, that we do make different choices, but that this should not stop us being friends.

But she did sigh, and gaze so distantly at the window, and behave so ... so ... irritatingly ... that I did but bow, assure her once again that I had meant no offense, and leave.

I then did receive a scroll from the lady's own hand, requesting conference with me.

And so ... back into the pantry we did go. And she did say "I know you do not like me," and demanded to know why. And so I asked her if she wanted an honest answer, I asked her would she have me speak frankly. And she wormed her way around and would not answer the question directly (Does this woman have a direct bone in her body? Besides the ones she presses indecorously against Ser Martel in the Refectory, in front of an audience?), and so I pressed, asking "Is that a yes?" And she indicated yes, and so I did tell her.

I told her that I believe that she was as much to blame in the business with Philo as he, that they each made mistakes, but that Philo did seem to apologize for his mistakes, when all she did was pressure everyone to escalate the misunderstanding, raising an increasingly big ruckus and ruining a friendship that was admittedly already in trouble but did still have a chance until she got hold of it.

And so she began simpering and whining and attempting to manipulate me into apologizing ... just as I have seen her do with others. And so I did tell her that I would not be manipulated, that I would not play her games.

And she did tell me that I have much to learn about honor. She! She tells me this! This woman who seems to believe that honor requires everyone to be her puppet! Who seems to use honor as a weapon to control the men around her!

And so I did tell her that I would not tolerate her games, that I would not be manipulated by her, and I did bow, and leave.

And here is where the worst thing did happen. Ser Martel did sit in the Refectory when I did pass, and I was most angry ... so angry! That he could love such a one as she! This manipulator! That he should be her puppet!

And so I did say to him in the Refectory, before others who were there, "That woman is a fool!" And then, even worse, I did say, "And if you do love her, then you are a fool, too!"

I did not even see his reaction, for I did run out of the room, and was weeping most disconsolately when Watchman Philo nearly ran into me in the stairway.

And now I do fear that my friend will feel that he must challenge me to a duel. And if he does not feel so, I do fear that the woman I loathe will manipulate him, convince him. And I would not fight him, unless I must.

I cannot face the world. All is destroyed. My friend is lost.

October the 24th

I did sleep little last night, for I did think long and hard on Sera Anastacia's accusation about my sense of honor. After much thought, I do believe that the sera and I have different definitions of honor. My definition has much to do with honesty and forth-rightness, concepts that do seem somewhat foreign to the sera.

But this analysis of my own idea of honor did also cause me some grief, for if my sense of honor does depend on honesty ... what of the fact that I have been dishonest with all in this castle except a few chosen friends? This does show no honor, then. No matter my reasons, and I do think they have been good ones, it does make me look to my honor.

And so I do think deeply about my course of action. I think I must be honest with everyone, no matter how difficult that will be for me. I do vow that I will not keep this secret any longer than this one week.

And ... I do blush to think how badly I did underestimate my friend when I wrote my last journal entry. I was most upset, but still he deserved more trust than I showed. Ser Martel did contact me by scroll today, and did behave most gently and nobly. He did ask me to communicate to him what did happen yesterday, and I did so, assuring him that I could give only my own impressions, for the sera does apparently refuse to tell him anything. I did inform him of my intention to avoid the sera in the future. I would have no further dealings with her, if she can be avoided.

And so Ser Martel and I did speak at length. At one point in our discussion, a man entered the room and did congratulate the ser on his upcoming wedding to the sera. Much consternation followed. Apparently, they have not actually agreed to wed, but only to speak to the Priestess to decide whether they would do so. But until this confusion was cleared up, the room was very uncomfortable indeed. I cannot even write what I did feel ...

I do hope that they do not choose to marry. I know not how long Ser Martel would have the strength to remain my friend under pressure from such a woman ...

October the 25th

Sera Anastacia does seek to speak with me, but I will have none of her. I do stay in my room, working on a most important poem which I do plan to recite at the Giving Day Dance, rarely venturing abroad lest I should happen upon her. I would not treat her rudely, but neither would I speak with her. I have promised Ser Martel today that I will not speak ill of her to other castle residents (and I do blush to remember what I have sometimes said before this ... but the sera did make me so angry!), that I will spread no tales.

Is it not mysterious, how so many of us who encounter this sera find ourselves afterward under strictures to not speak of her to others? Does this not speak badly for her behavior, that those who come to know her must be asked to not tell others what they know and think of her?

When speaking of the sera with good Watchman Philo after I did flee the pantry weeping -- now two days ago -- I did feel most sympathetic toward him that he did must hold his tongue. Sera Anastacia and Ser Martel can speak to each other of their feelings about these sad past events, but the good Watchman is now confined to loneliness on this matter. He can speak to none, since through the events he did also lose his friendship with Martel. It does not seem fair that those two might have each other, and he has none.

And now I must not speak ill of her, either. And yet I did but promise Ser Martel that I would not speak of her except with my close friends, and he did thank me, and so I do still feel that I might rightly speak to Katherine, Ser Lobo, and the Watchman. And, of course, my most dear friend Ser Martel.

But I can write no more on that matter, for fear that someone might intercept this writing.

October the 26th

Late yestereve, while walking with Katherine in search of Ser Lobo, I did meet Priestess Nadira for the first time. She did seem a most wise and kind lady.

I did speak to her of the sorrows and hopes in my heart. I did tell her of my love. And she did advise me most compassionately. Her words are still in my mind. She did tell me:

"Have faith in yourself."

"The beauty of a true heart in balance is a formidable and wonderous thing."

"My blessing upon you, and your quest, seeker."

And the last thing she did tell me, which she did whisper in my ear, was, "Hold your head high and trust your love."

Her words did echo in my mind all this day. I do try to hold my head high. I do try to have faith in myself. And I do try to remember that the Priestess herself has blessed me and my quest.

And I do try to trust my love. I know not if the Priestess meant the love in my heart, or the person who is my love ... but ... I do try with all my strength to trust in both.

P.S. - This day there was also a duel between Armsman Roland and Ser Edouard Ramos. I was not able to attend, and have heard no news ... but I hope it was not a duel to the death as Ser Edouard had demanded. I like not this enmity between the Duellists and the Watch ... I do fear where it may lead.

October the 27th

Indeed yestereve's duel was to the death, though not as any would have expected. It is a most distressing matter. Ser Edouard did apparently nick the Armsman with his blade, but was then grievously wounded in turn by his opponent. In the immediate aftermath, however, Armsman Roland did apparently ... I know not how to explain this ... he did apparently melt ... as if bewitched! That is what the people do say around the fire in the Refectory.

None do seem to know how to explain this atrocity. Some do say it must be poison; others do blame magic. Some do gaze with suspicion on Ser Edouard, some Sera Faer (whose honor the duel did defend, and who did serve as Edouard's second), some a mysterious Inner Bailey resident.

In conversation late this eve, I did remember me of something I did see on the eve before the duel. I did sit in the Duellists' Practice Room, observing their practice and hoping for a chance at the blade myself. Also there were Ser Martel, Sera Faer, Sera Kiera, Ser Robert, and mayhap others whom I remember not.

I had not met Ser Edouard before, and did watch him most admiringly as he did so gracefully and artfully practice with Ser Martel. In watching Ser Edouard, I did notice that he did carry a small green bottle, the likes of which I have not previously seen in this place. I did think nothing of it, even after hearing the events of the duel, until just a few moments ago.

I know not if this bottle was anyhow involved in the horrible events of yestereve, and I do fear that it would implicate Ser Edouard. I would not hurt those I respect in the Duellists' Circle, and yet I do feel that I should tell the Chamberlain of what I did see.

October the 28th

This day does end my fifth week in this castle. It is amazing to me how normal the castle can seem to me after such a short period of time. Since I have so few memories of my time before this, it has slowly become my home ... complete with family.

Today I did speak with Ser Martel of the green vial that Ser Edouard did carry on the eve before the duel. He did already know of it, for he too had seen it. Ser Edouard did tell them that it did contain a sleeping draught, because he had been having trouble sleeping in anticipation of the duel. But Martel did promise to speak to Sir Alrik, and to mention the green bottle, for it may be important evidence. If someone did manipulate Ser Edouard, and frame him, that bottle may be an important clue.

I did also give to Ser Martel the Giving Day gift that I did choose for him: the blue tunic that I was given for the Poets' Convocation. I did encounter Martel in the Tailor's rooms some two weeks ago, and he did seek a green tunic to match his cloak. I could find no green tunic for him, but did have this finely-made blue one which I did think would fit him.

He did seem most pleased. I think he did like it. I did feel that it was a great honor when I was chosen to recite at the Convocation, and when they did give me this fine tunic to wear, and so it did seem a worthy gift to give to him. I hope he shall wear it. I think it would look most handsome upon him.

And tomorrow is the Giving Day Dance. I do still work on my poem ... mayhap the most important poem I shall ever write. I do hope that none will be angry with me. But if some are, I will turn to my friends, for they do believe that I do the right thing in this.