'I can't believe I'm even bothering with this. Albaer said it often helped him sort the day out in his head to write what he felt, but what good is it to me? He did say he sometimes feels better afterward, like he's banishing pain to paper away from himself. I guess it can't hurt to do it at least. And I can burn the paper when I'm done, I've suffered enough shame and degradation since my life fell apart with the death of my husband. I don't want to pile on that by letting someone read this.

This is the last day my name will belong to myself, Lodira dies tomorrow when the Lur'gin Slave Company comes to town, Anton will shove me over to them, walk away some gold coins to the good, maybe give up a few silvers to certify an anonymous noble sale and… then I'll be thrown into leather, thrown into a cage, and carted off to who knows where.'

'Stars, look at me, I sound so matter of fact about it all, but parts of this paper will be too wet to burn, here I am crying about it all, blurring the ink and everything. From Contessa to a costly cunt for sale… how did this happen? I'm ruined… all I can do is hope someone nice buys me… or maybe that the Prince or the Duchessa get my letter. I shouldn't count much on the Duchessa, she barely knows me, so why should she give a damn what happens or what anyone does to me? My Prince is probably my only hope. The more I think about it, the more I want to think he'll act. I could see him buying me quietly and stashing me in a house somewhere, maybe his country cabin as a caretaker.'

'I could take care of it for him, and he'll come out hunting all alone, he'll walk in at random when he has the time, we'll lie together like the husband and wife we always should have been. We'll drink to our dear lost friend, and make love to the light of the fire lit with the wood he cut himself. His seed will take hold in my empty womb, life will stir, grow, and one day he'll come back… I'll present him with a child. I'll live out my life there, in quiet isolation, I can hear him now, an aged voice, salt and pepper beard like his grandfather… our son and daughter ready to welcome him home, ready to go out and take their place in the world too, with more luck than I had. And I'll just wait, until the stars call me home. Then I can see Sobella again, we'll embrace, we'll kiss… and one day he'll join us too, and we'll have the life in heaven we should have had here all along!'

'Who am I kidding… it's a stupid fantasy for a stupid girl! I was always stupid and frivolous… I know the truth. I'll ride in that cage, be put on the block as a fallen noble, shown off naked like a… like a prize horse. Maybe some fat rich merchant will buy me, I'll be a concubine until I get old and my looks start to fade, get sold to a low cost brothel, a barracks, or a work camp, and grind my last days away in rags and filth on a cheap, dirty, stinking mattress or in the muck. Then I'll die and get thrown into a storage place until my body can be sent west to feed some poor Tlalmok house that can't afford fresh meat.'

'But then again, maybe not? Maybe I'll be bought by a wealthy house, become a chief courtesan, teach some young lord the ways of pleasure, and he'll fall in love with me, and set me free, and I'll be like Sobella with our Rasgen. I'll never have heirs that can rule a city, but… maybe if… if things go well? Maybe I can still carve out a little life for myself?'

'Ha! Imagine if the Duchessa takes pity on me though? Of course, why would she even believe my pleas of innocence? If they'd found anything to suggest the real killer or even a motive for it? I'd have learned about it by now. Even Anton, bastard that he is, would have told me that much. But if she does, well maybe I could be a maid in her house. She's unlikely to fear any treachery from me. And she doesn't seem to have any physical interest in me. I guess it wouldn't be so bad, serving a noble like her… she stuck her neck out for Sobella to at least give her revenge, so she might be kind of scary, but good too. I guess that won't be such a terrible life.'

'Life, what a word… I had a good one, probably longer than most people get to have, that should be enough, but it isn't. I still want more, I'm a greedy, greedy girl I guess, greedy and stupid, and maybe just a little bit hopeful. After all, despite everything… Anton, the killer, my late husband, Rasgen's letting me go, the very existence of the Tlalmok… I still think this world can, and should, be a happy place. Maybe that dreamer, Sado, was on to something after all. I hope I get to find out… and for the better. But if I don't? Or if it is to be for the worse… I hope I pass on soon, I don't want anymore nightmares… and maybe that's greedy too, and also… that isn't such a bad kind of greed to have.'