A question that I always ask myself is where do my intentions come from? Are they purely selfish, or am I overly emotional, unable to separate what I desire from what is right and true? Or am I the result of a society that demands everything and gives nothing, therefore I cannot be held responsible for my lack of empathy? Or am I a combination of all of these things, and so much more, that I haven't yet had the opportunity to consider? 

I tend to have my most existential questions late at night, when I'm on my own. It's not exactly late at the moment, but I have spent more and more time on my own. I have craved my own company and damned those who have got in my way. There are a select few that I allow to be in my presence, but the moment their demands become too expectant I tend to scurry back into my hermit-like ways. I'm not sure where this has come from, or if it has been a long time coming, or actually this is what I'm truly like, as I was hiding behind a sociable facade?

I have all of the questions and not a single one of the answers. 

Since I am now into the second week of June, with only a fortnight left in the Far East, life is going at a tumultuous speed, and I've needed to take myself off to collect my thoughts before the long journey back to the Shire. Of course, I have the delightful pleasure of my Irish Ladies of Corcagh who arrive imminently, to look forward to, and their presence is greatly anticipated. But before they arrive, I have chosen myself as my only companion. That is, until the dark-eyed musician finishes entertaining the masses and I can have him to myself. I need some sort of consistency in my life at the moment, and he has the voice the purrs my name, in a way that only he can. 

Does that make it fair on the other people I have in my life. No. But, since when is life fair? And I have made no promises to break. Rather I have kept myself to myself, allowing my thoughts to cloud my sensibilities, and gone with what I believe are my truest of emotions. I don't know any more. I have been shut down for so long after the Duke of Albany, that I don't know what it is to feel and truly give myself to someone, and I am not yet ready to do that - thought I am finally allowing the thought to enter my mind for the first time in a year.

Love. What fools it turns us into.

D. S. 

There was a part of me that thought my last post would be just that, my last. But then there comes a day or a night where the words flow, and I can't stop myself from pouring out all that I feel, despite being unable to say the words out loud. 

Countries have been travelled since I last wrote; love and joy and frustration have all been experienced, heightened almost, by all too close quarters, and yet, the tenderness and fondness that I feel has not dissipated. Rather, it turns out that I have all these emotions I've claimed to not feel, they were hidden inside me all along and I'm only just coming to terms with the fact that they exist. I have ignored them for so long, easily since the Duke of Albany and I parted ways, and even before then, I was always weary and wary of all that I could feel bubbling under the surface of my skin.

And then someone you care about touches you and all the doubts, the worries, the questions, fall by the wayside, and all that matters is that moment in time. A touch that makes your entire body burn with desire, love, lust, a craving that you didn't realise you had, and aren't entirely sure that you want to satisfy. Or sometimes, it isn't even a touch - a tender look that speaks volumes. It conveys all the emotions that you have yet to admit, and aren't brave enough to utter into the hair that caresses your lips as you silently beg for more. 


For all that I feel, tiredness is something that I cannot ignore. My eyelids flutter against my cheeks, a daily struggle as I try to survive on a few hours sleep a night. It turns out age doesn't agree with me, and I need at least my eight hours to stay both productive and kind. The kindness leaves first once I'm under my eight hours. The productivity wanes under five hours.

I'm so looking forward to going home. I'm looking forward to having to put this year to a close. There is so much to still look forward to here in the Far East, but at the moment, my heart isn't in it. And I don't think it's because I'm ignoring my feelings this time, I just think I'm looking for something a little different. A chaos that I recognise instead of a mess that I'm unintentionally a part of; being home would relieve some of the tension building up in my shoulders. I hope. Though, am I possibly looking forward with rosy-tinted-spectacles? Am I already bored with the Far East? 

How could I be bored when there is still so much to explore? And I will admit that the travelling is something I long for when I have duties that keep me grounded for weeks at a time. And of course, there are similar opportunities back in Europe's beautiful green and pleasant land, but I want to see the world and be at home. How can I have everything that I want? Or is that life's great joke? We shall always want it all, but it is literally, metaphorically and physically impossible. 

Well, I've always been one to say 'never say never'... Whatever will be, will be, and all that, so I shall enjoy the journey. 

D. S.

I ended my previous post with a thanks to the Lord, an unashamed, unabashed plea for the good times to stay, in exchange for my appreciation and gratitude. So far, I must say that my prayers have been answered. 

My Mother joined me here in the Far East a few days ago, and though her journey was tumultuous, she has taken to the Far East like a duck to water. I forget that she has travelled as much as I have in her younger days, and though this is her first time to my Eastern city, she is more interested in the people I know than the places I have been. So we have dallied with friends, wandered the mountainside, delighted at the spectacle of dancing water that has astonished so many visitors to my Easter home. I am glad that she is enjoying herself and I hope she gets just as much enjoyment out of her own travels to come. 

Before Mother arrived I did have one day worth writing home about. It was a Wednesday and due to a wonderful tradition, everyone was in fiesta mode as we were celebrating the King of Festivals. I spent the morning in a state of undress with an artist of note - nothing like the portrait of Venus the Duke of Albany had commissioned for me all those years ago - but rather something much deeper and darker, and I have to admit it took me a fair while to get comfortable with my body being scrutinised in such a way. 

That afternoon I jaunted over the waters to a larger city to spend time with the Scottish Earl who surprised me with a visit. I couldn't not see him while he was in town, and there are rumours that he may be here for a little longer than expected. But of course it should have been scandalous to jump from one situation to another, yet it looks like I am used to these various trysts. 

The final chapter of the day was a complete surprise, even for me. I had left my painting class after my delicious dinner with the Scottish Earl and was wandering the streets of this most glorious city, when I heard the ever-so-familiar notes of a ballad from a musician I hadn't thought of in months. I couldn't help but be drawn to the sound. 

I didn't expect to see the same deep, dark eyes staring back at me from an equally shocked face from my travels in Indochina many months before. The musician continued to play, ever the professional, but the second he had a moment to spare, there we were laughing and talking about our fond memories from before Christmas. He was never someone I wrote of as an individual, always too wrapped up in the man who made me see myself, but now, now that I know what I am... I still can say nothing more. Not until I see him again.

And of this beautiful Iberian princess that I have become acquainted with...? For now, I have no words.

D. S.

What have I learnt since my last post? If anything (which I sincerely doubt) I have discovered that practice truly does make a difference, and my sketches have improved immeasurably since the beginning of the year. It is a pleasant feeling knowing that pushing yourself to do something every day does eventually pay off. 

If only I could be as dedicated with my writing, like I was in Bohemia, but it turns out I have to make choices between my arts, my friends, my work and myself. And truly I have been suffering for I have lost who I am, and maybe that's because I haven't been doing my writing? Questions are all I have, attempts to see what works is all I can do, and only from there can I adapt and develop to this being that I believe, nay, that I know I am. 

I know that I need to make more time for myself, to experience things that I enjoy, for it is all too easy to hide away in my ivory tower, drawing, writing, painting, with no thought to the outside world. But when I hear tales of my wonderful Ladies of the Shire, cavorting in the snow back at home, I not only envy their freedom, but wish I had the opportunity for similar experiences here. 

I miss my friends. Of course I have wonderful acquaintances here and few close enough to hold to the bosom of my heart. Nevertheless, it is not quite the same as having your friends from childhood laugh, reminisce and gossip with a furore that I'm sure only we know how. I don't think I have missed my Marquessa and Baroness, Armiger and Court Jester as much as this since I lived in the Antipodes and had yet to meet anyone outside of my family. 

Love is also a thing that I feel I can no longer speak of. It has left me, leaving only bitter memories of that which I have lost. I am in a confused state, still only worrying about me. The Duke of Albany has also been on my mind more than I care to admit. Indeed he has gone from a a name I barely recognise in conversation, to someone who haunted my dreams only last night. I feel the need to speak with him, but distance is a great barrier. So I shall write a letter, letting him know that he is in my thoughts.

For truly, the only other person to enter my mind, is myself. 

D. S.

To be overtly pensive about the fickle friend that is 'Time' can haunt thoughts at every moment, but to get nostalgic and sentimental about life and the choices that we make or the ones that are thrust upon us... I believe that is less self-indulgent and more necessary so that we can allow some self-awareness to simmer near the surface of our facades that we have spent so long cultivating. 

It seems that nostalgia and creativity are intertwined as I cannot put pen to paper without reflecting on the past and musing about what is to come. 

I suppose I should explain...

I came to the Far East with the Duke of Albany hot on my heels as we discussed attempting to pursue our relationship for a third time. But the powers that be dictated otherwise and he had to return to Bohemia. We have corresponded since then, and while he was here in the Orient I did allow the notion of absolution to cross my mind, but it seems that resentment and bitterness are hard emotions to swallow. That and pride.

So I then had the chance to breathe, on my own, on the other side of the world. It was exhilarating. Is exhilarating. 

There was a gorgeous man who caught my eye and took me on a whirlwind romance that lasted far longer than I intended, but I knew that relationship would be short-lived. As wonderful as it is to be adored, living on a pedestal can be exhausting and far less satisfying than one might think. I have had liaisons and infrequent frissons with other men, but only one has stood out and has the potential to go the distance. 

I am afeared to write much more on the matter. It is far easier to find objective words about men that no longer mean anything to me, but writing about someone who has opened my eyes to who I am. Someone who has given me an insight I didn't realise I lacked?

Words are not precious enough to describe him, nor pencil marks to give him form. Nay, even oils do not do him justice as I have so much to thank him for. And it still surprises me that his heart is mine. How even? Why me? How...?

I daren't question it nor speak above a whisper in case it is all a dream. 

D. S.

Spending days languishing in self-pity and wallowing in gloom because of a sniffle or three, does not a happy Duchess make. I have battled with my body and am in the process of forcing myself to enjoy the autumnal air, despite the cough. 

The Scottish Marquessa and I have turned the Far East into our very own playground. We dally in all sorts of circles, though of late we have frequented the music scene ~ a cello concerto that I heard just last night moved me to tears. My only wish was that I'd had the opportunity to share that moment with the gentleman I mentioned in my last musings. However, it seems that the dreaded influenza has spread, affecting his health ~ though I may or may not have had something to do with it.

Regardless, the music of late has been phenomenal and truly inspiring. I have somehow managed to find my voice again, allowing the words to flow through me, all the while cultivating an additional art form as I endeavour to perfect my pencil work. (I cannot admit that my muse has been discovered in the man who has helped me to open my eyes and look at myself... That would be far too saccharine for me).

I am happiest when I am creating. That may be a solitary past time, but my inspiration comes from the exciting moments that I share with both friends and lovers. For example, I would not be where I am, writing in the comfort of my own bed, if it hadn't been for the longest week where I have been pulled in every direction, suffering with maladies (none of which are self-inflicted!).

The ramblings have begun so I ought to stop writing round about now... But my fingers continue to tap away, my hand unable to control itself as the words continue to pour out of me. Nonsense, it seems, shall be the theme of the day.

I suppose I should mention that the Duke of Albany is swimming in dangerously close circles... It is of very little interest to me, but I have no doubt our paths will unintentionally cross at some point. 



D. S. 

Just a few hours shy of a month have I spent in the Orient, and though the first few days were a struggle as I acclimatised to the weather, the food, and the culture, I now feel incredibly comfortable here, despite being so far away from home. 

Where even is home?

If home is supposed to be where your heart is, then I suppose I am always at home, because I love my life and am constantly overwhelmed by the gratitude that fills my heart as I realise how fortunate I am to have these experiences and to share them with the most wonderful of friends. 

My days have been inundated with new learning as I listen to the wisdom of children. My evenings I spend soaking up the atmosphere of a city that has so much to offer in spite of its newness. Such a young city leads to many mistakes and misdemeanors of its own... And it's sometimes difficult to keep your head above water when you are the newest addition to a new city. 

Being tall and blonde may have its advantages, but it does mean that it is rather difficult to be inconspicuous, and my personality too, seems to have its drawbacks here in the Far East; this is a place where it is more favourable to be discrete and distinguished instead of ostentatious and gregarious. And as my past has shown, I do rather enjoy being the centre of attention. 

I still have much to learn, and with every day my confidence grows. 

There have been rumours that the Duke of Albany has also travelled East, and though we are on pleasant terms, I do not know if I am quite ready to see him on this side of the world. Especially when there are the most delectable men and women on this side of the world who think nothing of my caresses and knowing looks, but rather encourage my more licentious behaviour.

It's another country that I am letting crawl its way into my heart and I willingly call it home. 



D. S.

When life is overly frenetic to the extent that I cannot find a quiet five minutes to write, please know that change is afoot and my situation is more than likely out of my hands. 

So much time has passed that I am no longer taking residence in Brighthelmstone, but rather am enjoying the comfort of my own bed in the Shire for one night more... The Far East beckoned and tomorrow I shall begin my journey to the Orient. I cannot believe all my hopes and dreams have led me down this path, but it shall be my greatest accomplishment. 

Although I travel alone, the Duke of Albany and I decided to go our separate ways, I am most fortunate to have a delightful companion waiting for me when I arrive. The Scottish Marquessa from months before has also made the plunge into an unknown territory. I've never been one to shy away from adventure, but I am most glad to know that I am not alone this time. There are even greater discrepancies between the East and West than there were between the Antipodes and my Shire. I fear the culture shock may be the most difficult undertaking for me. 

But at any rate, I have committed myself to discovering new lands and learning ways of thinking. I'm so excited I can barely find the words. 

It surprises me to think that I am not pining for Brighthelmstone. As wonderful as it was (and I have to admit it was, perhaps, my favourite summer) I am rather relieved it is over. I suppose that is only because of the intrigue that surrounds my impending future, but even so, I wonder if I have outgrown the Convent and all it has to offer and teach me. 

It's not the same as it once was, and it makes me ponder whether perhaps I have changed or it. 

No matter, for it is now a thing of the past. 

The next time I write (which will be sooner than a month a way!) I shall have news of the Orient and will have begun my new life in the Far East.

I am going on an adventure.

D. S. 

Where do I begin? The story of my life has come full circle at a rate of knots that I cannot comprehend; the words are impossible to find and I find myself at a loss for the first time. 

The summer at Brighthelmstone is as wonderful as I imagined ~ though it is rather different without the Duke of Albany at my side. I'm enjoying my prowess and igniting my fearless reputation instead of mincing and mewling around the male courtiers. It certainly makes a change from previous years, and though I cannot deny missing the attention, I am finding a great deal of satisfaction in my new role. 

I feel very fortunate to have the Irish Lady of Corcaigh grace me with her presence, and even the Scottish princess has hardly left my side. We are a force to be reckoned with and it frightens me to think that I am already a fortnight through my six week summer. 

And then I will be calling the Far East my home. So many things have changed in such a short space of time that I find it hard to believe the changes have only just begun! Travel speaks to my heart in a language that no one else understands, and though I long for adventure, I still wish I had someone to share it with. 



D. S.

There is so much that I have to tell and I haven't a clue where to start. The last time I wrote I was enjoying my life in abundance with the brunette and making good one of my new year's resolutions. Since then much has happened; words have been said and mistakes have been made, so much so that they could be life-altering.

But does that mean I have the strength to talk about them, to write them down? I have to admit that I am the guilty party, the one more culpable in these latest occurrences, and if I actually put pen to paper and own up to the crime... Then that cannot be undone.

I know that over the years I have flitted in and out of people's hearts, cities, countries without so much as a second thought as to the consequences of my actions. I have always been rather hedonistic, and though I had toned down my behaviour of late, it seems that my so-called maturity was nothing more than a facade. 

Nevertheless, I am back in Dearne Valley for my final month of solitude before I travel to Brighthelmstone for the summer. I am fortunate that the Irish Lay of Corcaigh is gracing me with her presence this weekend, so as to distract me from my ever tumbling thoughts of despair. We have not seen each other since that eventful night in Bohemia and I cannot wait to reminisce and make new memories with her. 

My week in the Shire was more relaxing than I give it credit ~ both my father and brother were in attendance and it was delightful to spend some time with them, feasting and celebrating our successes in life. 

I even managed a short jaunt to the northern counties, catching a glimpse of the Duke of Albany before he disappeared on a rendez vous of his own. I miss the city that I have called home for so many years. Though the Shire runs through my veins, the northern counties will always tug at my heart. Much like the Antipodes and Bohemia will always bring me fond memories. 

I am not yet brave enough to utter the sin I have committed. Instead I sway back and forth between burying my head in the ground and moving on entirely. For truly, the only way is forward.



D. S.

Whenever it takes me too long to write and I take an unintentional hiatus from what I care about its because I'm living my life to the full and enjoying myself a little more than I should be. 

I suppose that's exactly what's happened... Yet again. 

I am back in my darling Shire and have spent the last few evenings whiling away the hours with my brunette Lady, drinking and dancing and cavorting with men who are only as delightful as the night lasts as we soon discovered they had less than wonderful intentions. But being the strong, independent women that we are, it didn't take long to pop their metaphorical bubbles and leave them cold. Girls, sometimes, just want to have fun!

Dearne Valley has been an interesting experiment, and with a few weeks left to go before Brighthelmstone, I fully intend to make the most of the time there. I have to admit I'm not quite as enamoured with the North as I was a few weeks ago, but que sera sera. It isn't forever, and I'm more excited about the prospect of moving to the Far East. 

The Duke too has made his decision... He is to stay on in the northern counties. He has made a life for himself and is not yet ready to uproot his life for me, again. Promises have been made to see each other as often as we can, and I know that distance is difficult, but if we have survived it the once, then I also believe we can survive it again. 

I have much to look forward to which does make it difficult to appreciate what I have now, but I am doing my best. 

D. S.

I have started and redrafted this post so many times I cannot for the life of me remember what it was I first wanted to talk about. 

Nevertheless... Weeks have once again sprinted past, without so much as a second glance, and as usual I have had very little time to myself. I have been so overwhelmed by my busy lifestyle of late that I have sat in silence, doodling and daydreaming on my own all evening, trying to recuperate from the hubbub of the Capital.

I adore the Capital. I know I have mentioned this sentiment whenever I tend to visit, but I love the pace and the anonymity that comes with being just another face... That is until I leave, when I breathe a sigh of relief, anxious to get back to my life where I am known. Infamy certainly has its perks. 

I suppose I should start at the beginning. The Marquessa and Baroness joined me nearly a fortnight ago in Dearne Valley, dragging the Duke in tow for some belated birthday celebrations. We drank and were merry and it took me a few days to recover. But it was wonderful.

Until I realised the week ahead of me would be one that could have had a damning affect on my future. I had to prove my worth as a Lady-in-Waiting, every gesture scrutinised and critiqued, looking for a fault. Thankfully I passed with flying colours and have only the one more visit to contend with. I shall make a note NOT to drink as heavily the weekend before.

Because I was so fraught with nerves I was barely able to write anything coherent, worrying only about the observation that was to come. However, I was rewarded with my visit to the Capital. I socialised with friends and acquaintances whom normally grace me with their presence only during the summer months, so it was wonderful to reminisce about my time at the Convent in both the Shire and Brighthelmstone. It is an odd feeling to have an extended family, as such, that are in some ways closer than my Ladies of the Shire because of the concentrated time we spend together, yet we go more than half a year without much contact. It does not make much sense, but I thoroughly enjoyed the company over the weekend.

There was nothing I could fault. 

If anything... It has awakened my usual yearning for my summer in Brighthelmstone, before my journey to the Orient.

D. S.

The hours have slipped into days, which have in turn dissolved into weeks, so much so that I cannot for the life of me remember what came to pass since I last wrote...

Let me think...

Oh yes. A birthday. My birthday. How could I forget?

I ventured back to the Shire to visit my family and my friends. It was most delightful to fraternise with those in my closest circle, having the Duke join my side without so much of a whisper. We were all impeccably behaved (which truly makes a change) and we discussed many things, from my impending travels, to betrothals and reminisced about those who have been and gone. 

And I turned another year older. 

I have to admit at being rather laconic in regards to my latest age. It doesn't warrant more than a few words. It has been discovered that reasons are not always necessary when meeting with old friends, and any time I get to spend with the Ladies of the Shire, including the Duke's sister, is time well spent. 

It was a rather short weekend, I never spend long enough in the Shire, but my Duke and I managed to spend some much-deserved time together, even crossing the North/South border hand in hand. We are still debating about our future, and I suppose there is nothing more to say on that matter either. 

Que sera sera. 

I seem to be getting easily disgruntled in my old age!

The folk at Dearne Valley did surprise me on my return with many well wishes and plied me with various bottles of wine and delectables that I have yet to sample because I have been feeling a little under the weather. I was incredibly touched to think that they all thought to remember and take note of something so inconsequential as my birthday, but it made the return somewhat more poignant. Of course, I am as busy as ever, but I am enjoying my time in the North.

There are whispers that the Duke and Marquessa may visit me this weekend, and I shall hold my breath in anticipation.

D. S. 

One would think it'd be possible to safely assume sunshine this late into the year. It seems we were rather heavily seduced by the warm climate only a week ago, but it has dissipated into a rather disappointing drizzle that seems unwilling to abate. 

Just in time for my birthday celebrations. 

However, I refuse to let this English weather dampen my spirits.

I am to return to the Shire tomorrow for a few days of revelry and debauchery. I have even managed to convince Belle, Armiger, the Duke and the Duke's sister to make an appearance. I am more than a little excited, and am wishing away the next twenty-four hours before I can leave for my home. 

That's not even the most thrilling piece of news I have to offer on this chilly evening. 

I have mentioned the Far East countless times this year, and though it may seems a strange longing for some, I on the other hand, have somehow managed to make my dreams come a reality. The Orient beckons its dainty finger, and I have answered with a gusto that cannot be ignored. I have a few months left in Dearne Valley, before I sojourne to Brighthelmstone with my usual retinue, and then I have a mere week to say my farewells and depart for the Far East.

I cannot say what it is I am going to do once I am out there, only that I know it shall be my greatest adventure yet. 

'The Duke of Albany?' I hear you ask... We are still in the process of discussing the terms of our relationship. I cannot ask him to travel to another continent for me, and nor do I want to. Nevertheless, we are determined to make our unconventional relationship flourish, despite the distance. 

It was Armiger, my darling friend, who asked the pertinent question. I think it is because he is recently engaged (congratulations to them both), but he made me realise that my lust for adventure is rather selfish... However, the Duke understands. He loves me for who I am. And that is an impulsive, spontaneous wanderer. You can't ask me to change, for then I should no longer be the person he so admired. 

I do not ask for understanding from anyone else ~ on some days I even question myself ~ but rather I look to rejoice. My life is wonderful, and I am so grateful for all that I have. I cannot wait to share in the jubilations and celebrations with those whom I love. 

D. S.

I did say I was looking forward to the adventures Dearne Valley would surprise on me, and I have to admit that it has been exciting than I thought it would be. 

Living with four elder members of the opposite gender is surely not everyone's cup of tea, but it seems to suit me quite nicely. They are each of high esteem, reputable (though not necessarily in a genteel way) and complete gentlemen. I am honoured to have them treat me with such reverence and respect that I have not seen since my younger days when I was considered a damsel in distress. I have not lost any of my independence, but there is a courteousness that borders on chivalry in these Northern parts that I believe has long since disappeared down South. 

The Duke and I have been in regular correspondence though I have little time to myself what with my communal living arrangements and the role that has taken over my life. I am looking forward to next weekend when I shall return to the Shire for a Spring music festival. It has been two years since I last showed my face with everyone around me, so the prospect of music and dancing with my closest friends brings a smile to my face. 

In other news, the Far East is calling my name with a stubbornness I haven't been able to shake off. Who knows, maybe I shall answer it with three little letters... Y. E. S. 



D. S..

A few hours short of a week have I inhabited Dearne Valley and I have to admit that I have never felt more at home and more comfortable in such a short space of time. I do have a tendency to adapt quickly to new surroundings, as is in my nomadic nature, but no more than a few minutes in my temporary dwelling, did it already begin to feel like home. 

I can imagine it would be a rather acquired taste: it is a far cry from the Shire where I am within walking distance of many friends and family; much more sedate than the busy lifestyle the Duke and I became accustomed to in the northern counties; it is a paradoxical comparison of rural and cosmopolitan next to the Antipodes; but I would say it were most like Bohemia ~ firm family values, with a few traditions I have never before experienced. 

This life that has been thrust upon me is currently being shared with four older gentlemen, each of whom who has made me most welcome. They vary in age from only a decade more than myself, to half a century older, and their stories are of the utmost compelling romances, trials and tribulations. I consider myself rather lucky (though I know that my situation is considered by many to be rather improper).

The Duke of Albany and I have continued our discussions about the future. He has joined me for the weekend, but still resides in the northern counties. His responsibilities keep him from travelling to Dearne Valley with me, but it is not so far to travel for a few short months. The future is looking rather exciting, the Far East is still calling my name and I eagerly await the moment it is all confirmed. Until then, I intend to keep silent about our future plans.

There isn't much more that I can say other than I am thoroughly enjoying myself. It was wonderful to have a few weeks in the Shire and Brighthelmstone. I don't get to spend enough time with the Ladies of the Shire and knowing that I am to add Brighthelmstone to my mantle during the Summer, means I will have even less time before I can no longer ignore the beckoning of the Far East. 

I look forward to the next few months here and the adventures to come.



D. S.

Weeks can go by and the monotony of life drags by without so much as a whisper of change, but I write diligently about my life because I intend not to disappoint those who read about my antics. Then more than a fortnight flashes past, and my life forces me to take a hiatus from my writing and then when I can finally sit down and have a moment to reflect, I do not know where to start.

I have travelled many hundreds of miles in the last few weeks, returning to the Shire, to Brighthelmstone, the northern counties and even further north to the aforementioned Dearne Valley.

Who knew that this small country had so much to offer in such a short space of time? I've confirmed my role for the summer at Brighthelmstone, and despite knowing that I have taken on a huge responsibility, I'm looking forward to the challenge. There is nothing like feeling ready for a new lease of life. 

Past the summer however, is still rather blurred. I'm lacking clarity and cannot truthfully say what it is I want to do. Yes, I want to travel, but my options are rather permanent, or fleeting. Nothing in between. The Duke of Albany of course, is having an influence, and though I am exceedingly grateful he has few expectations for me, I sometimes wish he'd try and convince me to stay. I don't want him to ask me, but I'd rather he made the choice more difficult. Though maybe he knows me better than I think... Nothing and no one will stop me from seeing what else the world has to offer.  

So I have left the northern counties for a few months and found solitary refuge in Dearne Valley. It is positively rural in comparison to the more cosmopolitan places I have lived, but there is a primordial sense of belonging here, even though I am considered an outsider.

I am looking forward to the next few months... Who knows what shall occur.


D. S.

Where to begin?

Over a week has passed, or rather vanished, and I'm now at home, looking out of my South Wing bedroom window at the Shire in all of its springtime glory. 

The last time I wrote, everything was rather up in the air about my future... The Duke and I had no plans past the summer and I didn't' even know if I'd be in the northern counties for the weeks to come. 

Again, I do not have all the answers, but as the future has arrived, as it were, I can describe what has happened and what I believe may happen in the next few days. After that, it's still as murky as ever. 

I had the the delight of the Gameskeeper over the weekend, we were celebrating another year of his life and considering we hadn't seen each other in over two years(!) it was wonderful to see his face... Right before he passed out. But the chances are that I'll have the opportunity to see him a little more often now that I am being moved... 

Yes. I wanted to travel and it seems that my prayers have been answered. As far North as I am, there is still more countryside that I haven't yet laid eyes on, and I am being sent to Dearne Valley to learn their ways. Truly, this year has been very educational!

I have a fortnight before I have to travel into the unknown, so have chosen to reside in my Shire for a few days before heading South to Brighthelmstone. The entire length of this great nation is at my disposal, but I do feel it may exhaust me. I suppose I could utter the fateful words 'be careful what you wish for', but that would sound as if I am ungrateful for these opportunities, and that wouldn't be true. I love that I get to see new places, meet new friends and discover more about a country I do take for granted. I'm also enjoying being home and seeing my Father and my Ladies of the Shire. In actual fact, I suppose I have much to be thankful for. 

It does mean that the Duke and I have a few months of separation ahead of us, but it is not the same great distance that we have overcome before, and I believe that absence does make the heart grow fonder. He has been more than supportive, and I look forward to him joining me in a few days...

Until then, I shall make myself useful before another journey even further South tomorrow. 



D. S.

Alack and alas, if only I could say what it was that my future holds, but I am just as in the dark as I was last time I wrote. 

All I can confirm is that I shall spend my Easter break in the Shire, enjoying the Spring festivities with my darling Ladies of the Shire... Before spending a fortnight at Brighthelmstone, discovering for myself whether I am up to the challenge of the role that has been designed for me, and giving myself a little more time to make a decision before the Summer is upon us.

The Duke shall accompany me to the Shire, but while I figure out what it is I need to do in Brighthelmstone, he is going to cross the Continent to visit his own family and friends. I think it is best that we have some time apart, only so that we can appreciate each other all the more upon his return. 

I have very little time to get my head around the idea of moving back down South for a few weeks, but it is only temporary... The Shire is always a delight to visit and I cannot wait to frolic with my childhood friends. No doubt there are many scandals and tales afoot that I have mislaid because I am not in close proximity to hear the gossip (nor to create it, thankfully!) so I am most looking forward to catching up with all that I have missed. 

Until that time arises I fully intend to keep my head low and continue with this personal struggle to learn what it is I need to learn to become a Lady-in-Waiting. 



D. S.

Again. A decision was made only to have it blown in the wind by a gentle breeze, scuppering any chances of stability in my life. 

It had been decided by the gods that I was to return to the Shire for the Summer. I had delighted in the fact that I would be able to return home for a good few months and enjoy a countryside lifestyle that I have missed before having to commit to another year as the perfect role model. But it seems the gods are more fickle than I gave them credit for, and now I have another decision to make. 



Brighthelmstone or...



The Shire.

They are both within my grasp and the opportunities are equally astounding, and I am more than delighted to be considered. However, I shall have to go through the pros and cons of each before I ultimately make my decision. 

Brighthelmstone is closer to my heart as I spent the last two summers there, frolicking on the beaches and making friendships, however I may not necessarily have the Duke with me and there will no doubt be fewer returners than last year and it is an enormous responsibility. 

The Shire is my home. I know the paths like the palm of my hand and I haven't spent more than a few weeks there since the Antipodes. Nevertheless, there are some memories of the Convent that I would rather keep under wraps and I would hate for history to repeat itself...

I have already made a decision in my head, but I sometimes worry that I plunge into new situations without spending the necessary time to consider the consequences (twenty year old me, I'm looking at you!).

Fortunately, I have the luxury of time before giving my answer. 

In other news, I have been joined by my Mother. She has been regaling me with tales of her travels yonder and I have to admit I am more than a little jealous. It doesn't seem so long ago that I was calling another country my home and discovering what it meant to live for myself. It is wonderful to see her, of course, but it is only a fleeting visit as she is soon to return to the Continent to visit her own father. 

It's amazing what we put ourselves through for our family.

I have much to ponder, and value the various opinions flying my way; it is interesting to note that the Duke and my Mother are on the same page for this...



D. S.