Dear Diary,

Last night was nothing short of wondrous.

I met a village girl. Her name is Lineya. She has striking blue eyes and short brown hair, and she wore light brown sandals wound with a cream ribbon, along with a blue dress patched in darker shades that somehow made it all the more lovely. She led me to Lake Hiscipoe, where we watched the sun set from a hill beneath a tree clad in autumn colors.

Her family lives in one of the workers’ houses, for her father farms the land. Her mother is—by far—my favorite cook, though she knows me only as Pelta, the name I invented in haste.

I cannot stop thinking of her.

I shall leave again tonight. In fifteen minutes my parents will tuck me in, then depart, only to return briefly before retiring for the night. I will use that window of time to escape.

I hope—oh, how I hope—that I see Lineya again.