Dear Diary,

How could I have forgotten what a spineless twit Cousin Farley was? "Oh, I can't. I simply can't." No wonder she's a spinster. She barely listened! As soon as she heard that I was being held by a nobleman, she tried to brush me off. Then Sir Conan shows up in the back of the shop, so I didn't get another chance to talk to her.

Speaking of Sir Conan that man is a nuisance – and he's also been appointed as my official guard. He was none too happy about accompanying me to the dressmakers, not seeing the need, but after I shook my iron shackles at him, he relented. I'm a mess at the moment; so much so that even he thought I needed a new dress. Although, I don't know how he thought I was going to put it on with my hands chained together.

At the very least, Cousin Farley gave me a shawl for my troubles and wished me luck on my escape. The first I accepted, the second isn't worth much. She also promised to notify my parents, which is a load off my mind. Mother must be beside herself with worry.

Sir Wilbur has gotten sidetracked by the local entertainment – the gambling, the taverns and the ladies of ill repute. I don't know whether or not to be grateful (which is becoming a familiar emotion to me). At least we're not tramping over the countryside and I've finally gotten a chance to wash myself…somewhat.

We've secured rooms at the Dripping Wine Cask. As inns go, it's relatively clean and the innkeeper's wife, though a husky, intimidating looking woman, seems nice enough. It was downright hard trying to hide my shackles from her. I can't imagine what she must think of me since I refused to remove my cloak even when our company was seated around the fire. I've been given my own room – which I am ever so thankful for. What on earth would I tell my mother if I'd had to share a room with Sir Conan? It doesn't bare thinking about.

I think it's safe to say that for the next few days, I'm going to have some free time. Althea is a big town and, I might as well explore. I have a feeling that Sir Wilbur will find ways to keep himself busy for quite some time. Lady Katherine seems to fall a far second behind tavern wenches.

What I need is an apothecary. If I can actually find a love potion, (or at least something that will serve as one) that might be my way out of this mess. Sir Conan is at least good for something. I certainly would not like to wander through this city without protection. Even if he isn't much of a knight in shining armour.

Dinner is going to be served soon; I can hear the crowds below stairs. Maybe I'll finally get a decent meal – the knights cook about as well as my sister. I had best get going before Sir Conan gets sent to escort me.


Dear Diary,

I threw an apple at Sir Conan today. He recognizes me. I've escaped to my room but I– ((a scrawl caused by a quill skittering off the page…))


Author's Note: How about a little tension? Diary entries make it very hard to build suspense... Let's pick up the pace a little too. Hmm... a little romance needed...maybe Sir Conan? Or a new character... So many choices, so little cast...