Year of the Boar, Third Month, Day 8.

Still barely able to move without pain, I tried to set some more of my affairs in order this aft. And I did find another maudlin poem I had written to Lord Kenta...

His eyes are jewels glittering in the sunlight.

His laughter, music floating on an evening breeze.

Should I ask, will he agree?

Have I changed so much in these past weeks...? Once my head was filled with romance, now it is all I can do to think of anything but pain. Once his voice warmed me and the touch of his fingertips sent thrills of pleasure down my spine. Now... now... the sound of his voice freezes the blood within my veins and his touch sends shivers of fear rippling through my body... When did I become so stupid that I allowed this to happen to me...?