Another sunny day in the Shire, but rather than waking up next to my beloved Duke of Albany, I am reclining on the chaise long of a Lady of the Shire. The same Lady who incidentally visited me in the lands of Bohemia many months ago. The Duke is having a weekend to himself - this is no philosophical retreat for some 'soul searching', nor is he reconsidering his imminent conjuncture with myself - rather he is making the most of his time with other Gentlemen and Lords as they prattle away after too much whiskey.
I made the wise decision not to question his motives, and the wiser move to vacate myself from the premises. I can only imagine the drunken horror the men will give inflicted on themselves and I do not want to bear witness to it.
Instead the Lady of the Shire and I have conversed merrily about the changing times, politics and love affairs , as well as a few more sordid details that I will keep secret. It is so refreshing to spend time with someone whose friendship spans over a decade so there can be no misgivings about who we are as people. I suppose this must be what it is like to have a sister.
I have heard from my newer acquaintances - the Irish princesses are home safely and send their regards from across the Irish Sea. I still laugh at the thought of the scandal that erupted out of Brighthelmstone but I wouldn't have exchanged it for all the world. In all honesty I am missing those volatile vixens most keenly and hope to see them again before the year is out.
But for today I intend to mark the most of my freedom and jaunt around the more familiar streets of my home town.
D. S.
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