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The Seventh of Tal, sixteen seventy-four.

Ten years ago my Father died, three moons later my mother followed him into death; She filled her pockets with pebbles and walked into the lake. I remember little of this time but I do know that he had been poisoned. My fathers physician believes it happened no more than two weeks before his death. My father kept a journal much like the one I now write; I haven’t gotten very far in it, it seems to be written in cipher. What I have read was quite shocking, the symptoms he’d dealt with started months before his death.

My Uncle has ruled as Regent since Father passed way, each passing year he has become more and more cruel. That may just be an illusion of my own mind to deal with his anger and thinly veiled hatred for me. My back still burns from the lashing I received for speaking out of turn during a dinner we hosted, I won’t be forgetting that lesson any time soon. Yet I still do not know how to keep a civil tongue in my mouth. He called me a vapid Child of Venus and I couldn’t keep myself from lashing out the only way I know how: I pointed out that the King is dead and that his son, a Son of Mars, now sits on the throne. He struck me, himself I mean; He didn’t call for his Valet. My jaw aches, I’ll have a bruise by morning. Not to worry, it will be gone soon.

In the ten years I have known him you would think that I would know not to press him, at least he knows best to not leave a scar. He found me in Fathers study today, well his study now. He’s found me in there countless times and it has done nothing but stroke his ire. I want nothing more than to know my parents, their rooms have been sealed and their paintings removed to the attic since he’s become Regent. I barely remember what they look like.

As our dear Lord Regent prefers to dole out punishments for infractions after the early evening meal, I absconded to one of the few last bastions of privacy I have. The Servant’s Hall is one of the few places our Lord refuses to go as it is beneath his station and seen as the domain of a woman. I hold no such illusions of my station, nor do I really care. Cook, Mrs. Argall, is kind and keeps a nice quiet corner where I might knit or read. The two nuisances is that she keeps trying to get me to eat while I’m down there and the fact that a few of the Footmen go cold and quiet when they notice me. I do not begrudge them, who wishes to speak freely around their perceived employer. When they appear I try to take my leave of them so as not to cause conflict between them, one cannot have the servants at war with one another.

As punishment for my transgression I’ve been locked in my rooms and here I shall remain for four days. I guess I will become very familiar with the ceiling and the few books I keep in here, it also gives me some precious time to work though Fathers cipher.

The Stars are Blisteringly Bright and The Keys to The Kingdom are Lost.

Regent: A person appointed to administer a State because the Monarch is a minor, is absent or is incapacitated.

Valet: Or Varlet are terms for male servants who serve as personal attendants to their employer. The valet performs personal services such as maintaining his employer’s clothes, running his bath and perhaps (especially in the past) shaving his employer.

A Son of Mars: You’ll find out soon enough.

A Child of Venus: Like the Son of Mars you will find out with due time.