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1819 Karosgrad Dearest reader, It was a lovely evening when I wasn't using my aching feet to walk away—quite a windy twisting road to get a measly tournament area. With a much needed breath of relief, this event was much more spaced out. Less people if they simply can not find their way through the gardens. Haense surely knows their way around their fists; amongst the fist were men donned in their armor ready to fight to prove their worth for all the lovely roses... If only those roses showed up. The men that wished for their beautiful ladies to make a grand appearance were certainly disappointed to see a measly seven women appear. Suppose if these event organizers would have put the losers in gowns and makeup. Maybe then I would have something to talk about other than this lack of any entertainment. A few new faces entered the arena. Like a lion's roar they were ferocious as if they were fighting for more than bragging rights. Much less a prize! Our poor winners got nothing but a simple declaration. While the winners were a splendid show of masculinity, the beaten dogs of the Tournament were nothing but gossiping snakes. Using almost every excuse in the book, to show to their loved ones that they weren't as wimpy as they just had appeared. If you simply can not take the heat sir do not enter the tourney. It is that simple. Humiliation across the board. Ser Antonius was the winner of the tourney fighting his way to the top. Not that he attempted to try very hard with his competition. I wonder if the Prince encountered the boars of the arid mountain, if he would still fare the same. Such miserable worms he seemed inevitably to squish beneath his careless feet. It should be no shocker that even his peers naively believe him to be the best knight. Such a grand title to include to an ever extensive list of names. Why he would ever need such a long list of names for a kingdom that has really nothing to offer. I hear it is merely bones and ruins, dry and barren fields.. Is the Prince Worthy of such, Or maybe he already broke all the hearts of his little kingdom. Come to fetch our own hearts? Does he desperately need Haense’s approval so much?. For all you know that is why he is here, within the dull season. To Prove his own salt. Among these seven wealthy ladies was "the Better Blonde". Getting so much needed attention, feeding her wounded ego from my informative articles. Tsk. tsk. Her shrewd eyes seemed inevitably to cling desperately to our lovely Winner and gallant Prince. Now, this is the worthy couple made to oversee this Lifstala. Mothers if you truly wish to snag a prince I would frantically try to add frills and curls to your daughters. Maybe dye their hair blonde for, Tatianna maintains all the men at her fingertips and is already starting her courting. She was seen shunning away her own cousin! Quite harsh! Heed my warning, do not fill your plate so soon, your eyes can be bigger than your stomach. Though the Kortrevich lines breed many many men, they seem to breed the most despicable and ill-mannered children. The youngest of the family hasn't learned right from wrong. Choosing to find her own entertainment rather than watch the boring destruction in front of her. Seemingly to pick on an Elf and make fun of her clothing in a ‘bedsheet.’ Whether that is Elven culture or not we simply have no need to comment on it. Though from the rest of the men that stood there and be idle, that may all you may be getting from eighty percent of them. Twiddling their thumbs and waiting for a lady to approach them. Such a boring family, no wonder they spit out more like rabbits. The poor frail nervous Juliya I hope she does not fall charm to such as she was seen talking to a few of them. Poor little Majorie, always second place in everything. She does not need to compete against her elder sister. Such a soft rose. Throughout the minor tournament, she stood unsteadily behind her sister. What the "The better Blonde" eyes didn't catch was that her beloved sister was sneaking glances at the Prince herself! Shying away from his touch, making sure not to look anywhere but his dreamy eyes. Two sensitive dogs are desperately looking at the same bone. A petty rivalry of sorts may break out if gentle Lady Majorie allegedly has the backbone to declare such words herself. Rather than asking wearily about her sister to confirm her doom. This caterpillar is not out of the race yet. She may very well be a gorgeous butterfly by the end of the incredible season, if only she loses all of that baby fat. Could she be the frog just waiting for the lips of the prince to transform her? An appreciation of the arts is what lifts us beyond mere animals. It stirs the passions and moves the spirits. Yours sincerely, Duchess Doja Catherine
