Year of the Boar, Second Month, Day 26.

My writings were cut short yesterday by Lord Kenta' s return and when I was able to rescue them, I found that in my hurry to hide my papers, I had pushed them under my blankets while the ink was still wet. To my dismay, they were crumpled and smudged beyond legibility. I had been feeling calmer today, less tearful, but upon forcing myself to rewrite what I had imparted for those who may follow me, I relived every moment of it. Once again, I am gripped by the fear of what is to come. And I find that yet again, like a silly girl, I am wracked by fits of sobbing. I am disgusted by my own weakness- still bruised from the switching his Lordship meted out, it is painful to sit properly, and yet I know I must endure it without complaint, for if I do not, I may incur his wrath once more. Disgusted also by my desperation to please him and save my own skin, no, not just my own, that of my House. For if I do not redeem myself in his eyes, the fate of the members of my Household may be worse than mine... My cheeks burn afresh with humiliation as the sound of his voice rings in my ears, deriding my attempts at pleasing him last eve, for I knew not how to do it... My stomach lurches at the thought of having to do it again... and I feel a deep sense of shame that he expected me to be skilled in such arts as are reserved for slaves and whores... My honour is compromised, I am all but undone... I do not know what to do....