Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 12.

The scroll is still on my bed-covers and I am still awake. I cannot bring myself to move it and yet I cannot stop looking at it. If I so much as pick it up, he will come through those pages and my nightmare will begin all over again. Chiyo does not speak; she comes in with food, puts it down and waits while I pick at it listlessly, she feeds and waters Crystal and then she leaves. I do not know where she goes. Perhaps she sits in the ante-chamber with the other maids. None of them ever venture in here; I do not know why... There was a time when I knew all of the servants, when I talked with them and giggled at the ladies of the House and their outlandish fashions... when I was little and had no care at all... As I gazed out of the window earlier, I thought wistfully that I did not know how happy I was when Mother was still alive... I believed myself miserable because she treated me like a toy but I had everything. I have more now that I am an adult and the Ruling Lady myself of course, but I feel that I have nothing at all.
It occurs to me as I write this that the contents of that letter may be important; if Shigeru is on his way here, it would be better if I knew so that I could prepare. So that I could hide... the very thought makes my stomach turn over as does the thought of touching that parchment and reading the venom that crawls through his ink but if he comes here and finds me unaware... unprotected... would that not be far, far worse...? I can barely breathe thinking about knowing the contents of that scroll but on balance, I must know. Perhaps I will ask Chiyo to read it for me and tell me the worst so that I do not have to touch it. In the meantime, I must organise a working party to look at the defences of the House... gods, why do you hate me so much...?

Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 11.

I have taken to my brushes and ink again so that I might concentrate on something other than my fear and my need for a pipe. Surprisingly, I slept rather well for several sticks last night and when I woke, Chiyo was feeding Crystal. I felt calm then, the contents of Shigeru's letter momentarily forgotten as I picked at the fish and rice that Chiyo had put by my bedside. I almost enjoyed it until I saw the great pile of papers that the Diplomats had left me while I slept and it was with a sickening jolt that it all came back. Chiyo noticed that I was eyeing the papers and moved to pick them up and hand them to me, asking if I intended to see to them straight away. As she moved them onto my bed, one of them slipped out of the pile and I felt my face turn grey as I noticed the seal. His. Three and a half sticks have burnt since and I cannot bring myself to touch it. Two days since his last and already he sends another... Chiyo's face changed when she caught sight of the seal, too. I do not know how much she knows but she nodded imperceptibly as if acknowledging my fears. I do not know if that was because she understands but cannot act unless I ask it... or... if it was something more sinister and she nodded because she is responsible for the scroll being here... or... perhaps I imagined her reaction... If only I could have a pipe. Just to feel that soothing ribbon of smoke as it snaked down my throat into my lungs, calming... the familiar scent of the weed as it glowed in the bowl of my pipe, heating the clay in my hand and filling me with that ethereal serenity as the opium did its work would make me feel better. Just to forget everything for a short while as I smoked...

Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 10. Postscript.

How I shall survive this seven-day with Nanami gone, I do not know. I should have planned something sensible. I do not know what to do. What if Itsuki hears that I am alone and comes for me...? It is not beyond her to do so. No one would be able to stop her; no one would even think to try it because I have sent out no edicts or any measures; any protocols for my needs in Nanami's absence. I wish I had been more sensible.  I cannot imagine what I was thinking. I was not thinking, of course and that is exactly the problem.
Chiyo crept into my chamber a little earlier. I had almost forgotten she was in my ante-chamber. I suppose the other maids might have sent her in to apologise. I do not know. Part of me felt that I owed her some sort of explanation but I could not give it. I am the Lady of this House in any case, I do not have to explain anything to anyone if I do not wish it. I did wish it though. It was just that I could not bring myself to talk about it all.
I did tell her crossly that I shall dress myself in future and that she is to make sure that I have food at regular intervals. I have also made her responsible for Crystal. Broken Rampart will be disappointed but I no longer trust myself to look after the bird so it will be far better if Chiyo does it. I do so wish that Broken Rampart had not gone...

Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 10.

I slapped one of the maids this morning. A young girl from the out-lying valleys on the border of the Seventh Kingdom if her accent is anything to go by. I slapped her full-square in the face and cut her lip. She came too close to me and I did not like it. I did not like it at all.
I woke in the night yesterday and got up to go to the bath house. I could not get the contents of the letter out of my mind and I felt... unclean. I just wanted to scrub him off my skin as I have done so many times before. I do not know why I bother. It does not help other than for a short while when I am in the water. I had the usual lecture from Nanami about my weight and my obsession with scrubbing my skin until it is raw and I told her imperiously, that I was perfectly fine as I always do. Yesterday though, she did not simply fall silent and return with me to my chamber. Instead, she burst into hysterical tears and sank to her knees, sobbing. I had no idea what to do for her. She refused to talk to me at all and hunched over clutching at her stomach, weeping. I suppose that now I know what it feels like when Nanami has to deal with my behaviour. Wrapped up in my own troubles, I had not noticed that Nanami never has a day off and sleeps as little as I do. I had not seen the dark circles under her eyes or the haunted look she has taken on and I had not noticed that she too, has lost weight.
My stomach was in knots and I had to spit the words out because I really did not want her to go away but how can I make her suffer when all she has done is be a friend to me...? I have told her not to come back for a seven-day. I told her that I did not care where she went or what she did but that she was to go away from my chamber and rest. I gave her enough coin to travel to the coast if she wished and I sent her away. I should like to go to the coast again. It is such a long time since my childhood holidays on the white sandy shores of the Northern Seas... Mother used to take me every year when I was very small and I did so love the feel of the sand between my bare toes and the freedom of not having to wear the heavy court silks. Since I cannot leave my House, perhaps Nanami will return with stories of the sands and the whales and perhaps she will even bring back some shells... If she goes there. She may choose instead, to visit her Grandmother in the villages... I am trying very hard not to care. I am afraid that she will not come back. I would not. I would run to the other side of the Kingdom or perhaps to the other side of the Seventh if I had to look after me...
So, with Nanami gone, I have had another maid sent to me. Chiyo, her name is. She is too young and cannot look after me like Nanami does. I had not realised how very much I have come to rely on Nanami or that I have come to feel comfortable with her. Chiyo's fumbling about with my clothes distressed me this morning and the feel of her hands about me was just too much to bear. It made the unclean feeling return and although I told her several times to stop trying to dress me and leave me be, she persisted. Eventually, it all became too much and I lashed out. The child has been in a corner crying for the past stick and a half and I do not know what to do about it. Deep inside, I know it is not her fault, she probably does not even know what has passed and anything about what I have been through but I feel ... I scarcely know what I feel. I wish she would stop crying.

Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 8.

My hand shakes so much, I can barely hold my brush straight. I have already managed to spread ink all over the parchment and all over my sleeves but I must record this latest ... what, incident? Episode? I hardly know what to call it. I am alone for now... Nanami became frustrated with my refusal to speak a short while ago and burst into tears before fleeing my chamber. I wanted to confide in her but I just could not bring myself to show her and feel that shame all over again. The Diplomats decided that there was too much to be done in order to get me to the Talks this morning and so rather than hand me their papers leaf by leaf, they simply left a great pile of things needing my attention on my tea table. I looked through them idly, half reading and then I came upon it...
Oh, I do not know that I can even make my brush form the characters on my page... my cheeks are flushed so deeply with shame and my belly is a knotted mass. A scroll... a scroll bearing his seal. Why did I open it? Why? I could have held it over the glowing end of the stick until it caught fire and never have read it. But if I had, I would never have been able to rest. What am I saying? I cannot rest now... He has written to me. Not a terribly long letter but long enough... Oh... gods... even from his own House he has the power to terrify me, to sicken me... Now that I have seen this, I cannot go to the Talks. Protocol be damned. I will not go and sit across a Table from him while he leers and delivers subtle threats detectable only to me... I cannot... I cannot bear the thought of being in the same House as him... and after I read the letter, I thrust it in my sleeve so that Nanami and the other maids could not see and I sat dumbstruck, held hostage by my own fears.
I can barely breathe as I kneel here, doubled over my writing table, my head spins and I know that in a while I will vomit. I will not be able to stop it. I am afraid to let go of this feeling; if I do, I will begin crying again and I do not think that this time, I will be able to stop. Why... why is he doing this...? He has had his pleasure, surely he could just... let me be...? The letter rustles in my sleeve, crumpled against my arm but I am afraid to remove it. Business to resume as usual once the Talks begin, he says. He reminds me of our agreement and says it is far from dissolved. He is divorcing his wife and intends to spend more of his time at Dying Crane since he cannot properly keep his agreement and defend my borders when he is at Fallen Sakura.  In graphic detail he tells me what he wishes to do with my body.
Things I am sick at the thought of... things he never did while I paid my tribute 'willingly'.
I cannot let him touch me again. I cannot look into his fish-like eyes and see the hunger in them again. I cannot leave Dying Crane. I will not. I wish that I had refused him or tried somehow to stop him when I was a child. There are plenty who think I should lie in the bed I have made myself but do I deserve this, now? This... sickness, this pain?
He is right when he says that I cause grief wherever I go but is being his bedmate really all I am good for...? Gods, help me. Please, please help me...

Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 5

They have started making arrangements for me to travel to the Talks but I cannot, I cannot, I cannot.... I cannot go anywhere and be in a room with him. I cannot. The Diplomats say I have no choice - I have no heir and no Consort. I must attend myself. The more I think about having to see Shigeru again, the sicker I feel. I have been so agitated that I forgot to water the bird and the pitiful sight of her pecking at the little bowl in her cage was my reward upon waking from what little sleep I had this morning. I felt so very wretched. Self-centred I may be but not even I could wish the little creature to suffer.
If I could just have one pipe, I know I would feel calm enough to think properly about what I must do. To feel that numbness for just a stick or two... just a stick. Even a small pipe, just enough to soothe my anxieties for a short while...
 I tried reading a few of the papers that the Diplomats brought this morning but I could not concentrate on their crabbed script and could think only of what will happen if I go to the Talks. I saw Shigeru across the Table from me, leering, passing me a tiny note which simply contained a time. I saw the triumph and self-satisfaction in his gaze as he watched my sickened reaction. I ran from the Talks only to be caught and dragged into an empty room; his hand tightened around my throat and as he pushed me into the wall, scrabbling at my silks, I screamed weakly for help but none came. When he had taken his pleasure, he rearranged my clothing and pulled me back to the Table, grinning sycophantically at the other Rulers, telling them that I had been ill and in need of air. All of them sitting around the Table either pursing their lips in disapproval or smirking...
Gods, I feel so sick... I have been in the same corner of my chamber since I rose to give Crystal water earlier. I can stop neither this shaking nor the sick feeling. I wish only to sleep but I am too afraid to close my eyes. Shigeru haunts me whether I close my eyes or not and I feel powerless to stop this. I need a pipe ... I need it ... I need ... something ... My writing is barely legible yet I feel that I must commit these things to parchment in case ... in case ... Should something happen to me, I wish only for someone to know the truth about it all ... Perhaps they will believe it once I am dead. I do not know. They do not believe me now, I suppose so why should my death make that any different...? Gods... please, help me...

Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 2.

The Diplomats marched in this morning and informed me that the Bi-annual Talks are at Crying Orchid this time. Bi-annual Talks. I cannot imagine why they think I would even contemplate showing my face at the Talks. I lost my temper with them, naturally. One of them cried and another ran from my ante-chamber with a cut to the forehead after a contretemps with a book I had thrown and a third, well... no matter. Naturally, they insist I attend the Talks and have entreated Nanami to "speak some sense" to me. How can I possibly go and sit opposite Shigeru and talk about matters of the Kingdom? How can I go into a room with him? How can I go to the Talks knowing that everyone will be judging me, that HE is free to do whatever he pleases while I am the one who must suffer the gossip, the speculation about how I pleased him and who else I must also have been pleasing...? Gods, I cannot go... I will not... I have bitten my nails to the quick this morning, I have been sick several times and I cannot stop the shaking that assails me. I want a pipe so badly. The pale smoke snaking its way into my lungs, soothing, calming... obliterating...

Year of the Boar, Six Month, Day 31.

There has been no word from His Lordship Broken Rampart, nor indeed from anyone. I have isolated myself in my corner of the Kingdom for so long that I wonder if half the Houses even remember that I am here at all. Nanami told me this morning that I should appoint a new chief Diplomat. Since Itsuki was removed from her office, there has been no one to advise me other than Nanami and yet the court officials continue to parade in day after day with piles and piles of papers on which they wish me to put my stamp. I am so tired of it all but there is simply no way out at all... gods, why do you despise me so...?
The kitchens have been sending me food at regular intervals but it all tastes vile. The only thing I have found in the least but palatable is pickled radish over a small amount of rice. It will do for now, I suppose; it is surely better than simply drinking tea and eating sweets but it will not help me to get well properly. I do not know what to do... part of me does not care to get well, it is only that I do not wish myself a slow, painful death of starvation. Perhaps I should simply sink beneath the waters of my bath and not resurface...