A Seamstress' Pages

Dear Pages,

I find myself struggling to wrestle with inner demons. Out of fear of randomly bubbling over with emotions in front of the Family, I've determined it best to pursue a method of release.

Perhaps I should catch up to date. When first brought to the castle to serve the Family, I'd been nervous and elated. Very few people seem to have taken to me. The Jester simply finds myself a means of cruel jokes, and nearly all the townpeople have rumors of me bedding the princes and princesses left and right. I don't go into town all that much any longer.

I very rarely leave the castle at all. Especially after Dun had been sent to war and met his demise. The stables are a poor reminder of what might have been. Leon, ever helpful and kind, evokes a strange sense within me. I'd call it a convenient attraction.

As of late, sleep has been a rarity. The moment my eyes close for rest, all I can see is Princess Synaria standing before me in all of her painted glory, eyes blazing like fires from the depths of hell. To avoid confrontations, I've been skipping on meals. I feel myself wither. Bags have made a near permanent rest beneath my once mirthful eyes. I fear for my life much more in the castle of the kingdom than I had simply serving from my home.

I must return to work. I fear sluggish paces will have me reported to the King, a man as faceless as an empty plate as of yet. I hope to avoid crossing his path.

Dear Pages,

I certainly must make getting some fresh air a habit. As of recent, requests for all sorts of gowns and fineries have been in the works for the festivities that are fast approaching. A party. A party for all those past deceased. Looking at the clothing that I've made for others to wear, it certainly has me wishing that I could don such fine fabrics over myself. Though I have to admit, before completely altering all of Garnett's finer dresses I might have tried one on here or there.

And I know my habits must change thanks to Leon. A chance run-in at the stables revealed his transformation as well. His hair continues to grow, as does his frame in general. His birthday coat is already far too snug, and I believe I'll have to make him an entirely new one.

On the up side, my nightmares of Princess Synaria aren't nearly as gruesome or tormenting as they used to be. Most likely due to the fact that I've managed to keep myself locked up working. Though, if I start breaking regularly, I run the risk of bumping into royalty.

My energy should be spent on sewing rather than writing. I shall attempt to write more regularly.