Mountdawn, 4th of Regnausa, Year 433

It's over. Briar has finally bested me.

I've lost everything. My reputation is in shambles. Mother and Father won't even look at me anymore. Johannes spits at me when we talk. Prince Galian has annulled my engagement. I don't even have a title to my name; I'm just Protea Fynderne now. I haven't left the palace in days; I don't think anyone will let me.

All this because of her. I should have killed her when we first met. She's untouchable now - there's no way to fix this mess. There's no magic in the world that would be able to send me back far enough to prevent this from ever happening.

Tomorrow, I'll be taken to the capital for trial. Without a title or my connection to Galian, I'll be completely at the Court's mercy. They won't kill me, I know. Emperor Constantin wouldn't risk the wrath of Frostenden when we have control of most of his military. But that's where it stops. If I'm lucky, his majesty will just send me to the coal mines, where I'll slave the rest of my life away in filth. If not - Gods help me.

I won't plead guilty; I'm still a Fynderne and I would sooner die than get on my knees and beg anyone for mercy.

There's still one way to fix this. The alchemist that makes my medicine is still here. There's a potion I've been researching for the past few weeks, and if I'm right about it, this is going to fix all of my problems. He'll be done with it tonight. I won't risk writing it down here; I've come too far to have everything fall apart so easily.

I haven't told Zephyrine my plan yet, but I think she's starting to catch on. I'm sure she wanted me to flee Frostenden. She tried to get me to go out today, but there's no point. Wherever I go, Galian will find me. I dread to think of what will happen to me should I be caught.

This is going to work. It has to.

This is my final entry here. Farewell.

Sincerely,

Protea Fynderne of Frostenden