| 27.08.42 / afternoon, late |
[17.07.06|22:37] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  stressed | ] |
Charis is downstairs. I expect the Lady is reading her the articles of war, which is an experience I don't envy. I think I'd rather have my father do it, or even Dux Kyteler, over the Lady. Her disappointment is worse than their rage. Charis doesn't know into what, exactly, she walked with her attitude today. I understand her dislike of Dashwood, these things happen, but all the same, when the Lady's decided someone is good enough to keep about and favour with her pleasure, then there is nothing short of a divine mandate that will change her mind. And even then, I fancy she'd argue a while.
All the same, I can't bring myself to go down there. I know the contract on Dashwood is nothing good. I know that he wants out of it like a fox wants out of a trap. I know not everyone's contracts are like mine and Meli's was. I know these things. But all the same, my insides turn to lead and I feel like I'm going to be sick for days and days, like I was when my moth she made me and Meli break ours, just gasping for air and unable to eat or think or do anything but hurt and.... His can't be like ours. I'm sure he hasn't ratified it. But all the same, I see them, what they're about to do this evening and it's all I can do to breathe. I want Meli here. But I don't need to bother anyone else with this. No-one needs to know. I can just stay up here, just hide and read and not think about it. I'm not going to think about it. No-one will miss me, regardless. |
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| 23.08.1942 / morning, early |
[06.05.06|19:31] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  cranky | ] |
I hate allergies. I hate weak lungs. But most of all, I hate cats. Thus far, I think I've dirtied every bloody handkerchief I own, I've been wheezing like I'm seven years old again and there is white cat fur everywhere, thanks to one of the damnable buggers who insisted on sleeping at the foot of the bloody bed. Probably purred all night, too, just waiting for me to wake up in some sort of apoplexic fit of wheezing. Evil creatures.
I'm going to ward this room like a fortress at this rate against creatures of the feline persuasion. I'm not going to show up for work like this--as it stands, I'm going to sneeze my way through the damned reception and luncheon et al today. Damn, damn, damn. Why can't the Leffoys have bloody dogs?! |
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rattled