The Diary of A King's Mistress

10th January 1668

        Today marks one of the coldest days in all of Fate's Whisper history. Snow coats the ground and comes up to my ankles, it ceases just below the train of my dress. Unlike most days that I isolate myself inside the cottage and read about botany and medicine,  I decided to go for a stroll. As I got further into town, I noticed the populace was all assembled. They looked to a platform that was slightly raised from the ground and made of a wood that gave an unnerving creak. A man stood in the center of the platform, dressed wholly in black. Over his head, he wore a black hood with slits in the eyes, and in his hand was brandishing a sharp and leaden sword. Even though I was unable to see the man's expression, I could feel a smile was present on his face. A man covered completely in dirt and blood was kneeled down on the wooden platform. Both his hands and feet were bound together so he was unable to flee. It made me feel bilious to know what was to come. But then I saw him. I saw the man that every woman wanted as their lover. A man with a type of fire blazing deep in his eyes. He wore a sinful smirk that without even truly knowing him made me see all his cruelty. As my curiosity grew the best of me, a man of great judicial importance stood in front of the man kneeling and explained his crime and reason for execution; apparently the man had committed a great robbery, stealing some of the King's most prized jewels. A punishment, that in my opinion, seemed excessively savage for the crime committed. As the judge finished his statement, he moved away as the man in the black hood hovered over the culprit. Unfortunately, the man did not blind my sight from the execution. In a swift motion, the man's head separated from his body, causing a mass amount of blood to fill the ivory ground. The crowd squealed and some even yelled at the King and the executioner. Food of all origin was thrown onto the platform, hitting the men whom eventually departed out of town. But as the King journeyed down the dirt street, I caught him glance back to me on more than one occasion. In a total, I would estimate about six times. When he finally crossed to his carriage, I continued my walk to arrive back to the cottage.

        When I arrived, my brother was outside looking at the beautiful plants that were outside my window. The color was exquisite and unlike any other plant nearby. It smelled so divine and beautiful but caused an irritation to my eyes. I must have been rubbing them like a fool for some time. My brother, Nicolo, looked at me as if I was something he had never seen before. My brother was far younger than I. Nine years to be exact. It was a complicated difference considering there was nobody closer in age to neither him or me. This made things difficult when we would look for a companion for the day. His interests and mine differed substantially. But we did have botany in common, although he did not understand most of it. He liked the colors and the smells, and reminded me of this most often. Nicolo and I had spent the rest of the day gathering different types of plants from around the cottage. Most of them were common in these parts, but the one we collected by my window stood out most to me. When I went inside, I took out a book I received from my grandfather and looked through its contents to hopefully find a clue on what plant I was holding. As I did this, my brother held onto the other flower. He showed my parents how fragile it was, and how beautiful. My fingers tore through the pages so quick that I received a cut on the print of my finger. I sucked the small drop of blood it produced because my grandfather had told me that was how you heal things so small and painful-by a small solution.

        I was so enthusiastic about reading, that I was oblivious on what was about to unfold. Supper had been about half over when my brother just stopped. He had been talking and laughing and just stopped. His once majestic green eyes were overtaken by a pale color, even more waxen then his skin had become over such a brief moment. I am unsure why, but I found myself unable to move. My breath grew heavy and quick but my feet nor my hands or mouth moved. I was just helpless to watch. My father cleared the table in one swift motion with his hand and laid my brother down, who was now breathing sharply. My mother was crying hysterically and her hands quivering. And yet, I remained still, possibly from shock or uselessness. Nicolo then began convulsing uncontrollably. My father's hands tried to still him, all the while he would not cease. I could feel my eyes burning with tears and yet, nothing happened. My body ached and screamed and yet I was motionless, frozen with a feeling I have never endured before. Within a matter of seconds, my brother was comatose-as my father called it. It was a state on where you no longer conscious, it is usually present with a high fever or a cranium wound. My mother never let go of my brother's hand at least for that night.