5th July 1223
Ploufragan, midday
How tiresome! Some rustic noble has come here to ask for my hand in marriage. I made it quite clear to father that I am not going to marry some country bumpkin. Apparently he is some sort of hero, having rescued the duke's son. I imagine he simply rode some robbers down while he was fleeing in abject panic. I am to speak to this Sir Achilles, and to be 'polite'.
Evening
Sir Achilles is old! And lord of a tiny little manor in the middle of a haunted forest! I can't imagine why father thinks that he is a suitable match for me. I told the knight exactly what I thought of him, but it turned out that he could speak Latin, so at least he isn't completely ignorant. I discussed the problems of the match with father, but he refused to listen to reason and had me shut in the solar. The indignity! I suppose he is feasting that Sir Achilles as if he were a representative of the duke!.
7th July 1223
Ploufragan
Father has decided to marry me to that cowardly pseudo-scholar who lives with monsters. I tried to persuade him otherwise, but even my feminine tears could not touch his stony heart. I told him what I thought of such insensitive men. He simply nodded and shut me in the solar again. I shall run away, and marry a prince. No-one understands me. I wish I were a peasant, they never have to deal with being married to old, crippled backwoods fakes.
10th July 1223
Ploufragan
Saved! That false knave Sir Achilles is already betrothed to a Galienne of Petrusca. I will not have to marry him after all.
12th July 1223
Ploufragan
Ah, the fates conspire against me! Why was I ever born into this cruel world? Galienne is a peasant with delusions of grandeur, and her betrothal to Sir Achilles exists only in her own mind. Nothing but a noble prince riding to my rescue can save me now.
26th July 1223
Ploufragan
Still no prince. V. bad.
7th August 1223
Caribet Manor
We have arrived at the place where I am condemned to spend the rest of my days. A few pathetic hovels clustered around a pretentious manor house, surrounded by fields in the middle of a forest filled with monsters. A tower is visible through the trees, and I believe that is the tower where the sorcerers live. Father surely cannot intend to leave me here! I shall be eaten or turned into a frog or bored to death by my husband's attempts to be witty.
9th August 1223
Caribet Manor, morning
Horrors! One of the peasants has been killed by a monster from the forest. I am sure that this will convince my father that I cannot possibly be left here. This place is far too dangerous. And they won't even let me see the body. How can I prepare to defend myself if I am not allowed to gather the information I need? I remonstrated with my father about this at great length, and it was very satisfying to see him completely confused when he realised that, as this is not his manor, he cannot shut me in the solar.
Caribet Manor, evening
I simply cannot stay in this place. That man is impossible. At dinner this evening the drinks were served in, can you believe it, silver goblets. How cheap and disgusting! I'm sure that the flavour of the metal was in the wine, as you can never get it out. Of course, I positively refused to have anything to do with such vessels, and I would have been perfectly happy to go without wine for the whole meal if necessary. I will not be patronised and condescended to!
There is a great deal of commotion outside as guards are set around the manor to protect us from the monster, which they are claiming is a wolf. I notice that Sir Achilles is not among the guards, rather keeping vigil in the chapel. Ha! Using piety as a mask for his cowardice, I see. Neither mother nor father would speak to me, so I complained at length to Heodez, who agreed that I was most badly treated. I doubt that I shall sleep at all tonight, from worrying about whether the dragon will eat me in my bed.
Caribet Manor, night
The humiliation! The indignity! The gall of the man! I cannot believe that I am to marry him, but father now says only that if Sir Achilles is still willing, we must seize the opportunity. I don't see why having a werewolf in the family is such a problem. We don't have to tell everyone, after all. I am sure I could still marry a prince, what with my beauty and education.
I was dragged out of bed and to the church, literally dragged. The messenger barely gave me time to arrange my hair. Inside the church, I saw Uncle Foulque tied up on the altar. Father was simply talking to that Achilles, rather than fighting to free our relative. Father then announced that Uncle Foulque was a werewolf, and that we would have to prove that we were not. Sir Achilles demanded that I hold a silver crucifix. I refused. I would not lower myself to dignify his base suspicions with such a response. Absurd, to suppose that I could be a werewolf. That man insisted, and my father joined him. Ultimately, father pried my hand open and placed the crucifix within it. I brandished it in Sir Achilles's face and asked him if he was satisfied now, before throwing it at him. He merely caught it and nodded, before giving to Uncle Foulque, whose skin was marked. I knew silver was a nasty metal, and this merely proves it.
Even after that, Sir Achilles had the gall to insist that I wear a silver bracelet at all times. I protested vigorously, as silver is a cheap and nasty metal, and wearing such a gewgaw would lower my dignity in the eyes of the world. He must learn how to treat me properly! Father agreed with him, and whispered in my ear that, if I didn't put the bracelet on, he would flog me. I put the horrible thing on then, because I truly believe he would have done it. I am betrayed by all who should protect me!
As if that wasn't enough, Achilles then took some of my hair, with no regard for how it made the rest look, and asked many questions about where I was born, and other such details of my history. He then left, and came back apparently satisfied, saying that he would still marry me. Father looked relieved! Relieved! How could he? We were allowed to return to the manor house, but I made sure to make my displeasure known.
12th August 1223
I am now the wife of Sir Achilles of Caribet, and thus condemned to live in this monster-haunted forest. I said as much to my husband, who had the cheek to say that the only monster who had killed anyone was going back with my family. He demanded his conjugal rights, but his arthritis will, I think, stop him from being too bothersome in that respect.
At least the wedding went well. People were appropriately respectful, and treated me properly for the first time in many months. Even if I still had to wear that awful bracelet.