Dear Diary,
I may not write as often in the coming days. Preparations for my birthday have begun, and my duties grow by the hour. There is little else to report today, save that I already feel the weight of it all pressing upon me.
***Sunday, January 21st
Dear Diary,
I am overwhelmed beyond measure. Mother insists that this birthday “must be the grandest yet,” as though turning thirteen transforms me into a queen overnight. I understand her meaning—this is an age of expectation—but she burdens me with responsibility while still refusing me the freedom of even the castle grounds.
I have been made to choose the colors (lavender), the wall designs (swirling patterns), the theme (a grand ballroom), and even the menu. Each choice is scrutinized as though the fate of the kingdom depends upon it. I cannot keep pace.
I long to leave the castle, if only for a moment, to breathe air not trapped between stone walls. Perhaps I might sneak out… though such a thought is dangerous.
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