Elday, 12 Beginning of Spring, 1087

I can't stand it.  I've been recovering for two days now, and while I just don't remember being sick, being a convalescent is bitterly unpleasant.  How I envy Flaern and Dayne their ability to go where they will and be who they wish!


At least I saw them both, today.  It's not odd that I find myself clinging to the familiar in this city, I know, but I do so fear they will tire of my presence.  How long will Flaern be content to sleep on his own couch while I take the bedroom?  He is so kind to put me up, especially ill, but as soon as I am able, I'll make arrangements for a place to stay for the remainder of my sojourn in the city.  Papa would likely not be pleased to know the situation I've been in.


And they're both so busy... there's more to write about what I know of them, than there is to tell about myself.  I finished another book today, and have found myself quite desiring a trip through the shops.  A new dress, a new book... Doraster's has some delightful texts, even if the man himself is unbearably boorish and precisely the type Papa would skin me alive for associating with.


But if Papa knew what was going on here, I'd not be here.  Perhaps I ought to send him word.  The lass with the shattered leg, the blood in the streets, peasants that think it appropriate to spit at those of the peerage... oh he'd have me home in a heartbeat, demons notwithstanding.


But I don't quite want to leave.  I want to talk to Flaern about the things he said... well, the things I THINK he said while I was ill.  And I'm quite certain Dayne kissed me, tonight.  I really will have to scold him for that later.   I certainly can't let on that I was rather pleased by it.