PART THREE

Patrick's Journal

Day 1:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A new girl will arrive at my palace, and this time she is not a maid. A friend of my father died so his daughter has come to live with us here in the castle. Her name is Annie Heethare, what a name. Russian, I believe it is. She should be here tomorrow.

Day 2:

Tomorrow it is. The girl has arrived and mine heart began to pound when I saw her. A horrible name, but beautiful features. Long golden hair past the waist shines like the sun in the dawn. Eyes like that of the sky. Not even my mother’s eyes are so stunning. And her skin has a slight tan to it, kissed by the sun’s golden rays. She’s long and slender, but not so slender that she looks like a bone. Yes, lovely she is. Love.

But, what is love? A mere kiss of the hand? Or more?

Day 3:

She is still here. Many days... And many smiles.

She’s been spying on me, too. She likes me. I cannot say love for, still, I do not know love. Yet, my heart knows I love her. Known or unknown, I do. I’ve kissed her. Tonight. I took her to the beach and kissed her. She’d not suspected it. Took her very much by surprise, it did. Much more likely, shock.

After a moment she had let her mouth open and relax. But then she stiffened and pushed me away. I’d been hurt, saddened, as if I’d been a child and scolded for doing something bad. Yet, I had done nothing wrong. Had I?

I’ve told her many a time that I’m going to war. This night is to have been our last together. I’m leaving tonight, to war. To protect my Kingdom... Our Kingdom... Mine 
and Annie’s. Together forever, we shall rule. Together. Forever. Us. Our Kingdom.

Day 4:

I’m writing sloppily, more so than usual, because I am running. I made my way into battle. I must rest.

Day 4 (later):

I’m back. Still sloppy for the cold. I am shaking, freezing. Father was right. Battle is no place for a prince. I wish I were back home in London, in the castle. I wear a mask all the time, so no one recognizes me. I think it is working. So cold. Cold. Very cold. I need sleep. Home. Home. So far away from home. Overseas, on another planet altogether it seems. Alone. All alone... I must rest now...

Day 5:

Not as cold today, rather warm actually. Two more men down in the night. Died of the cold. I knew one of them... Barely. Both from frost, died I mean. I hope it stays this warm... I hope it stays warm. I wish I were home, I pray that soon this war will be over. I hope Annie is safe, I wish she were here with me. I pray that I can see her again very soon. Annie... Annie, don’t forget me. I pray that she loves me the way I love her, I wish I was with her now. Annie...

I am a prince, with not much education. So please excuse the writing habits. I am Prince Patrick. I’m tall with brown hair, and my eyes are coal-black. My father is an old man now, no use hiding it. His graying hair, also brown once, is always in the way. He hath finally let it go. It looks like a scared cat running from a mutt, very fuzzy it is.

 

Author's Note

Reviews would be appreciated.