A/N: Very strong warnings for suicidality in this chapter, and it's somewhat graphic. I am very serious about this. I also want to warn for death, murder/attempted murder, depression, PTSD, grief and guilt, and injury.

2 July 1630

I tried to get in today again but I didn't get as far as I would've liked. It's hard to move quickly and quietly while keeping the bow and arrow hidden. After all, the bow is half as tall as I am. I have to hide the bow under my skirts and the arrow down the back of my shirt, but it's hard to move that way.

5 July 1630

I practice shooting every day and I'm still not eating enough. I don't know why I'm still not hungry hardly ever, but I'm not. I should eat more.

7 July 1630

I got further into the palace today but no closer to Candas. I don't know where her quarters or her throne room is. I can hardly remember where the ballroom is, and I was there once.

I need to find her. I've been looking everywhere. I guess I just need to look harder. I need a better disguise.

10 July 1630

I got further in today wearing a nice dress I wore to some of the festivals when we were traveling. I suppose I look like a lady-in-waiting, but heaven only knows what people think of a sickly pale woman moving on her own through the palace, walking oddly because of the bow hidden under my skirts.

I still haven't found her. I have to find her.

14 July 1630

Today would've been my love's thirty-fifth birthday. It used to never rain on his birthday but now it always does. I hope it's sunny for him in heaven. I hope he's comfortable and safe with Simonn and Dolora and Luke. I hope he's happy with our baby, because he wanted to be a father more than I wanted to be a mother. I remember when my love was teaching our baby to walk and the joy in his voice when Luke took his first steps.

I miss him. I hope he's happy wherever he is now.

17 July 1630

I tried to get further into the palace today, and I did alright. But I still couldn't find Candas. I just don't know where she could be hiding. She's the queen of the entire country-how could she possibly hide? Anyways, she thinks she can do anything. She's not afraid of anything. Why can't I find her?

21 July 1630

I caught a glimpse of her today, but she was surrounded by servants and I couldn't aim well. She didn't see me, and neither did any of her servants, but just that glimpse made me furious with her all over again. She killed everyone I love. She killed my family.

I'm going to kill her.

24 July 1630

I'm considered writing Patrick to ask for help, but I don't think he'd help me. He might even turn me over to Candas-or worse, Grantt. Candas may be about as evil as a person can be, but I'm afraid of how Grantt might hurt me. I want to die, but I'm not so sure I want it to hurt.

28 July 1630

Into the palace again today, and closer to Candas, but she varies her routines. Does she even sleep in the same room every night? How can I possibly find her?

30 July 1630

It's so hot these days, and part of me would love to jump in the river and cool off, but our river has dried up to a shallow creek and I can't go swimming anymore. I'm not sure I want to. It's something I did with those I love, and I don't have those I love anymore.

2 August 1630

It's too hot. The herbs are growing up fine, but I'm not hungry enough to eat. Everything tastes like cotton anyways.

4 August 1630

I saw her today, as she was going to her bedroom. Maybe next time I'll try to get in and shoot her in her sleep. She won't have to suffer, then. But then, maybe she should be awake when she dies. She should know why I'm killing her. She deserves that much, at least.

7 August 1630

Another failed expedition. I sometimes see servants wandering in groups, and I know which ones are hers, but they rarely if ever lead me to her quarters. Maybe her throne room is a better bet.

11 August 1630

I tried the throne room today, but it was empty. It usually is, apparently. I put on an accent and asked a servant, and apparently it'd be better to try the dining hall. If I can find that.

14 August 1630

I made it to the dining hall today, but not during a meal, so it was empty again. It's so hard getting into the palace and past the guards that sometimes I sleep for hours and hours when I get home.

I should eat more. I don't want to know how many ribs I have, and I really don't want to remember every rib that broke when I was in the dungeons. I can feel the bumps where they healed.

I practice shooting on my off days. It's hard without my pinkie fingers, but I can still shoot straight as ever.

16 August 1630

I wish I had more motivation than this…this vengeance I need. I wish I could still go looking for my family. I wish I was still fighting the government that kills us. I wish I was still twenty years old and my love and I were just married, just getting ready to have our first child.

I wish anyone was still alive.

19 August 1630

I made it into the palace again today, to the dining hall. But it was too crowded and chaotic and I couldn't get a clear shot, and I will not kill anyone but her. No one else should die for her crimes. That much I believe.

22 August 1630

I'm thirty-five today. I hope I'm never thirty-six.

I made it to the dining hall and I was about to shoot her-I had a clear shot-and I just remembered how I felt when I was staring down a bow and arrow and how my love loved everyone and how he told me before he died that he forgave her and I couldn't. I just couldn't. I went home and went to bed and cried for a while, and then I got up to write this, and I'm going to be dead before I'm thirty-six.

I will be.

26 August 1630

I swore to my love I wouldn't do this. He had me promise him with one of his last breaths that I wouldn't.

But I can't honor his wishes anymore. He's been dead more than seven years. He couldn't have known it would be like this. He couldn't have known I would feel this way, so alone and tired. I don't think he'd have survived so long, alone with those voices in his head. He must understand.

29 August 1630

I'm too afraid to draw any of my own blood. It would hurt too much.

3 September 1630

I can't do this. What would my family say if I see them again when I pass? They'd never forgive me. I can't.

5 September 1630

I don't have enough rope to tie a noose or anywhere sturdy to hang it from. I'm afraid that would hurt too much, too, because I know most people's necks don't snap and I don't want to die that way.

8 September 1630

I suppose I have a goal to work towards. I wish I could just shoot myself with an arrow but I can't. It doesn't work that way, unfortunately, and I can't just stab myself with an arrow. It would hurt so very badly.

12 September 1630

If my love were here, what would he say? Well, if my love were here, I wouldn't feel this way. I'd have someone to talk to. I'd have my dearest love with me and it would be okay, we'd help each other through it.

He'd tell me not to.

But he's not here.

15 September 1630

I wonder if I could just…stop eating. I don't eat much anyways.

19 September 1630

I tried to not eat at all but it hurt so badly I couldn't take it and today I went to the village-which I haven't done in months-and bought a loaf of bread and ate it all at once. I can't starve to death. It just hurts too much.

23 September 1630

I shouldn't. Besides my love, Dolora and Simonn would tell me not to. They would want me to keep living.

But then, they'd want me to keep living so I could keep fighting, and I can't do that anymore.

26 September 1630

I could throw myself off the old bridge. The river is mostly dried up so when I hit the ground below it might just kill me. I just don't know if it's tall enough.

27 September 1630

It's not tall enough, but I think I sprained my ankle.

30 September 1630

I haven't been able to walk much, but I think I'm healing. I suppose that's better. I didn't know my body was still capable of healing. I thought I'd given up enough that it would, too. I suppose not.

1 October 1630

I wonder if I could buy a gun. I'm not sure how to use one, but I won't need the money anymore and no one else would have it after I'm gone. No one will find my body.

4 October 1630

I tried to buy a gun but no one would let a woman near a gun. I don't know how to use one anyways, so I suppose that was a dead end.

That might be funny if I had any sense of humor left.

8 October 1630

I shouldn't have gone looking for the gun. It's terrible of me to look for a way to end my life. I shouldn't.

I can't stop.

11 October 1630

Maybe I could burn to death. I know how to start a fire. I could die the way my love did. It would be very symbolic, I suppose. It would be exactly what Candas planned for me, and I'm not sure I care.

13 October 1630

It would hurt so terribly. I burnt my hand today stoking the fire and it hurt. If I were to burn to death, it would hurt so very much, and I'm afraid of it hurting. I wish I knew a way to die without it hurting.

16 October 1630

Since he died by burning, he would never wish that for me. He would never imagine that for me. He'd want me to keep living. Dolora would give me tea and tell me I deserved a good life. Simonn would just hug me and tell me he never wanted me to hurt. He used to rock side to side when he hugged me for a long time, and I could never explain why it made me feel so safe when he did that.

19 October 1630

I'm reconsidering jumping. Perhaps the roof of my home would be tall enough, and the dirt wouldn't crumble when I hit it. Maybe that's for the better.

21 October 1630

It didn't work. I think I sprained my ankle again. I had to drag myself into the house and it hurt so, so badly. I don't want it to keep hurting. I just want it to be over. I want it to stop hurting. It's been hurting for seven and a half years. Can't I be allowed some rest?

I probably don't deserve it. I probably deserve everything I've been through.

25 October 1630

There was a storm last night and I climbed a tree, hoping lightning would strike. It didn't, and there won't be so many lightning storms in the winter. But maybe when it snows I can freeze myself.

29 October 1630

It's getting colder and colder, or so I suppose, but I can hardly feel it.

31 October 1630

Today is All Souls'. I wish I could go into town and dance with my friends and family and just be comfortable and happy. Maybe I'd cuddle my baby and show him the festival, tell him how much I loved him-how much his family loved him.

But there's no one. Half the village wouldn't recognize me, because they're too young or I'm too different, and the other half hate me, because I married a bastard and then went to church or because I fought the government and lost.

I lost. I failed.

I'm a failure.