24-01-YC122

Khuyovo!

Humiliation.  That is what it is.  The Archbishop and his whore publically announcing their intention to court!  Court!  As if whatever animalistic rutting that passes for pairing off for Tribals could ever be considered an actual Courtship.  It offends the beauty of that word.

Yet this is beyond my emotions.  To think that an heir to a vassal of an Amarrian Heir Family could ever enter into a legal union with some pizda from a Tribal Clan!  Surely anyone with even the tiniest sense of loyalty to our Motherland must see the implications that this will have?  Will Ardishapur really let this happen?  What if this union produces offspring?  Are we to allow Tribal half-breeds to inherit the position of Amarrian nobility?  Why not simply surrender everything to them now?  I am of a very strong mind to petition Ardishapur - and just as publically.

Of course, people will simply say it is the raving of a jealous lover.  Yes, I still love him, though I shall never admit that openly.  The thought of his foolishness and what it will mean, the damage it shall undoubtedly do, brings great pain to me.  Yet perhaps Ishta is correct in what she says.  Perhaps it is not my business, not my concern.  I should simply move on, as she phrases it.

Would that it were so easy.  No-one seems to understand, except, ironically, Constantin himself, that I cannot simply forget my feelings, drop my emotions as though they were trinkets to discard.  Have I not tried?  Or perhaps I have not tried hard enough.  Perhaps I should just cut the feeling of love out of me.  Bleed out my emotions onto the floor, for what does spilled blood ever matter?  It is as inconsequential as spilled wine. Spilled tears.

Blood and wine.  Both as meaningless and fleeting as each other, and here I am with only a bottle and a knife, my Old Friend, for company.

Ishta is right - but there is something I need to do first.

I should send the happy couple a gift.