The strange thing, the reason I wanted to write in the journal tonight, is that I don't feel as good as I thought I would. Yesterday, all I could think about was being free, seeing Mother again, being with Sinch on an adventure. But today I had a lot of time to think, sitting in the wagon, and I kept thinking about Father and Lord Dewanne. Father's done a lot of things I hate, but he's a lord. I see the respect the teachers give him, and something Master Xoren said to me once comes back to me even though I don't want to think about it. He said, “you're a natural at this, just like your father.”
I wish I hadn't studied so much history. So many of our lessons started with “the lord of such-and-such was a weak lord.” Father isn't weak. Neither am I. But this is weak, now, what I'm doing. I want to see Mother and Vinton again more than anything, but I don't want to do it like this, running away. My dinner isn't sitting well, and my throat is all tight. But there's nothing I can do about it now. I can't go back to Divalia.