Melday, 13th Beginning of Spring, 1087

The busier I see people, the more I wonder why I'm not.  I don't do anything, I don't think.  Overhearing those girls yesterday, rude and uneducated as they were, really made me think.  What do I do for this city?  For papa?  Suddenly, I feel quite useless, but I can hardly put myself to some menial task.  He would be furious and my two 'escorts' would likely scold.  


But then again, maybe they wouldn't.  Flaern hasn't come home in two days and Dayne...  Truth be told, I'm starting to wonder if there's more of an issue between us than he's willing to admit.  He didn't appear to have a problem with my living in Flaern's house, but after the statement he made earlier about Forge, I'm really not sure he's telling the truth.  He doesn't speak much at all, though.  


I guess that I had no idea how much either of them cared, until I was ill.  Then they both acted, they both spoke, but now that I am well, Dayne seems to be withdrawing again.  This business with the Cloaks claims all his time, and I do not know if being away is what he wants, or not.  I cannot read his moods.

Sometimes my title and my heritage frustrate me.  Would he still hesitate to speak bluntly, if I were not a heiress?

Oh, that's a silly fancy; the dream of a girl with too much time on her hands.  In truth, I'd wish nothing of the sort upon myself.  I'd not know how to live, were I not Papa's daughter.  It is my life.  I would not wish to be one of the common, dirtying my hands for a living.  But I do want to do something.  I need to do something!

It's frustrating, just how restless I've become.  Being ill has really affected me.  I can't stand to sit indoors any more!  Even walking the city streets and sitting beneath the pergola is better than being cooped up.  My books just aren't the friends they once were.

I need to find something to do, before I lose my mind.  Perhaps I'll bully Flaern or Dayne into taking me along, the next time they head out of the city to hunt.  It sounds thrilling, and I would like a chance to test out my skills with a blade.  It seems silly to train and train, as Papa has insisted I do, without any practical knowledge.

Wouldn't papa have a fit, if he knew I had such urges?