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Well, I’ve finally found a really good use for my journal. It’s a great place to say things you can’t say out loud. Not if you want to live very long. Sort of literary self preservation.

Case in point: this whole journey business is going to drive me crazy. Actually, it’s not the journey, it’s the people. One of them, anyway. If I don’t find some way to ditch Princess Fenoria, I’m going to kill her.

A loud shriek put an end to the quiet. It came from just over the next rise. Erwyn winced and looked up from his notebook. The shriek was followed immediately by something that sounded suspiciously like a bee screaming.

Erwyn knew better. He took a few seconds to scribble a couple more lines in the book.

I’ll try and make sure the Princess falls on Viona when she dies. It’s the only way.

Erwyn slowly closed his journal and carefully placed it in his pack. Maybe the delay would give him time to find an escape route. But, no. He listened for another moment to the squealing as Fenoria and the damselfly started round six, then got up from his nice, comfortable rock.

“So much for sneaking a little time to myself,” he muttered. Maybe he should have taken up diplomacy instead of sorcery.

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