Year of the Boar, Eighth Month, Day 9.

I am numb... the second Bi-annual Kingdom Diplomatic talks of the year have been cancelled in order to properly observe and respect the funeral rites of Lord Kenta... I cannot write more at this time and such is my grief that I do not know if ever I will feel able to pick up a brush and a block of ink again. Perhaps in time, I will feel able to impart all that has happened within the House of Silent Thunder of late... but it has taken all the nerve I possess, merely to make it known on record that my beloved is dead. The funeral ceremony is yet to be organised, Silent Thunder and White Lake are in disagreement over the details - it is all too much to bear...

Year of the Boar, Eighth Month, Day 8.

His Lordship has not yet returned and the ache in my soul which had been stilled by our reunion, has begun again... There has been no word from him at all and I find this morning, that as I work my through yet more mountains of paperwork, that the Bi-annual Kingdom Diplomatic Talks are due to begin again next week. Next week! I had no idea how much (or how little) time had passed... I shall have to attend but how shall I? How shall I return to the Talks when in the last six months I know nothing of what has been happening in my own House let alone the Kingdom...? How shall I sit across the table from the likes of Yuika, and face her scorn...? Knowing all the while that my Love is missing... and that I care nothing for any matters of the Kingdom unless he is restored to me... Worse news yet, the Talks are to be held at Crying Orchid and it will take me almost three days to get there... I do not even know whether the invitation has been officially accepted on my behalf or Lord Kenta's... I must discuss all of these matters with Azusa, my chief advisor, and see what she has to say about them ... Oh, it is not to be borne, I cannot see how I shall cope... Where is he...? I shall dispatch messengers to each House immediately and try to gain the answers I seek, although the very idea of sending one to White Lake, or indeed, Dying Crane, sends a chill down my spine... but I must know... I must...