Case File: Diary of Ernest Nightray
Day 9
Today, to cheer myself up, I took a lovely lady friend of mine out for drinks. We were having a beautiful time until I invited her back to my place (not the Nightray estate, of course, but a secondary house that I use for delicate situations). The girl had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn't be entertaining women in that way since I am injured! Needless to say, I'll have her removed from the country immediately, just as soon as I can get in touch with Father's people. And—
…
"Hey Frank," the Pandora member said, holding the diary out to his companion. "Look at this…" He gestured to the page.
"It's a giant inkblot," Frank said.
"Astute as always, Frank," the Pandora member said, rolling his eyes.
Frank sighed. "You know, I could do without the sass."
The Pandora member ignored Frank (what an asshole; when was he going to get fired? Everyone knew that he was barely competent enough for the job and only there because he was some super distant cousin of some cousin of the Reinsworths) and wondered aloud, "Maybe something happened to him. Maybe this is evidence!"
"Yeah, well, maybe you should read two lines down and see for yourself."
"Jesus Frank, what's your problem today?"
Frank rolled his eyes and continued to rummage through one of Ernest Nightray's various trunks. The Pandora member muttered, "Prick," and continued reading.)
…
Pardon the inkblot; Elliot came in and I was in a rush to shut this book. Not that I wish to shelter my younger brother completely from the joys of an older man, but I did not think that now was the time to explain to him.
Anyhow, he wished for me to listen to his latest piano composition. I did so, and I must say that for a young boy, he is quite talented. Though he won't inherit Father's titles (nor will I, actually), I am glad he was not born an eldest son. Maybe this way he can pursue his passions, rather than have to waste his life in the strained, tedious politics that his older brothers have dedicated themselves to (myself included).
Elliot is a talented boy. Sometimes I feel so proud of him that it is even easy to forget my own woes.
Sincerely,
Ernest Nightray
