A Journal Entry dated Aug 27, 1813

I’m taking a page from Elinor’s book and attempting to journal. I’ll do a terrible job, I’m sure of it. But maybe it will help me figure things out.
 
I was so excited about coming back to my Donlon, but I’m afraid it’s much more evil than my younger self remembers. Oliver nearly died today. He and I were attacked in the streets, and he was dragged away from me and beaten inside a sack. Dominic tried to shrug it off when I found him later, and Berig was such an ass all day about it. I should preface by saying I ran into Berig today, an absolute surprise since we haven’t spoken since we were children. Also, I need to work things out with Elinor probably. And to think, today started off in the dreamiest bed at the Blumett estate...
 
I really am doing this journal all wrong. How does one choose an order to write things in? Everything blends together in the mind.
 
Elinor is upset with me for, um, “gathering information” on Lady Dahlia. I’m sure the young Miss Blumett is a delight to court, but I wanted to know what a halfling can learn when not being distracted by her dazzling eyes. (That’s a benefit of being so low to the ground — while the Sterlings are right at eye level, liable to be charmed, I can better see how much shit’s on their shoes.) I ended my search with more questions than I started with, but she definitely was lying about working at the Mythical Menagerie. I’m afraid she’s tied to the kelpie attack somehow. And I’m nervous she has some ulterior motives for pursuing Elinor. My lady is incredibly intelligent and capable, but there have been so many attempts on the Sterlings lately — I can’t stomach the thought of the next one being aimed at Elinor.
 
I am so frustrated with everyone’s lack of concern on this matter. We have been openly attacked twice in just the last few days, and it’s like everyone forgets it but me! I can still feel Lord Daniel Frost’s hands around my neck. His fingers in my mouth and nose. Ice shards cutting down the inside of my throat. Pardon my shaky handwriting, those words were a struggle to put down. That was the most terrifying moment of my life. And tonight was a close second when Oliver walked in, covered in blood and pale as a ghost— I would know. He’s usually so boisterous and unflappable, but he looked… ready to drop. I couldn’t help it — I completely broke form and abandoned my duties to help him, in front of Elinor and her client even. I have to say, this is my first time having a family so many people to care about — is it supposed to be this stressful? What if Lord Nicholas says the wrong thing to someone and becomes the next target? What if it’s more than just Oliver’s fingernails next time? I mean, shit, what would I have done if I’d actually sent Dominic to his death? Goddesses help me, I care about them all so deeply. My lips are chapped from chewing on them all the time. I have some ideas on how to keep track of everyone better, but I may have to sacrifice all of the wages I’ve been saving up. My poor little nest egg…
 
Um, next up. Berig. My old friend. Bear. Not only is he alive, but he is alive and thriving, thank goodness. The dwarf’s entirely covered in tattoos. It suits him. And he’s taken on the kids left over from Merciful Hands, it sounds like. That also suits him. At least it seems to — again, it’s been twenty years. I don’t know him. I could only hope that he might be alive still, and yet there he was on my first night in the city! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Aino finally took an interest and fated us to meet. Immediately, I ran to hug him, and… it was so nice. I can’t remember the last time someone wrapped me up in their arms like that. I can’t think about it too much because it makes my chest ache. I really, really missed him.
 
But then, my gods, he opened his mouth and started talking. It ruined everything: he’s such an ass. He was terrible to Dominic, and Dominic was acting weird, and no one was listening to me about Oliver being actively tortured. The city’s having such a strange effect on everyone. Let me tell you, Dominic later came back to Sterling House in an absolute fury like I’ve never seen before. He had brought with him some of Oliver’s clothes that I guess were taken during his “questioning.” I volunteered to wash them so the scullery maids wouldn’t have something to gossip about, and I swear there is more than one person’s blood on it. I’m not sure if I should ask.
 
(By the way — why do magical people even employ scullery maids? If I have to see one more prestidigitation spell thrown about carelessly in front of me, I might scream.)
 
Bear was horrible about the Sterlings. It makes sense, though. I know how we grew up. I know what I look like to him now. But it’s all just horseshit. I’m starting to get so tired of this whole social hierarchy. Even though I do need to learn to act the part of a lady’s companion, for Elinor’s sake.
 
Look at me, writing a journal entry and the whole page is filled with names of friends. Who would have thought.
 
Ugh, I see I’ve left a smear of Oliver’s blood on the page from my wrist. I need to go wash up again. Try to not vomit this time. I’m just glad I kept my dinner down long enough for Oliver not to see. His poor fingers
 
Dove
 
Oh — PS — I need to ask the Sterlings if any of them know a Lady Idol Aidel Idle? I left her on her own in that tower, and I think I’m starting to feel bad about it. Maybe I should find her family like she asked.
 
PS again - I think I told Dominic today, “You can go fuck your alone time.” That was not very ladylike of me. I can hear Elinor’s voice in my head telling me to apologize to him. So, yeah. This is who I am in Donlon, I guess.