8/25/355
Damn my infernal temper!
I hadn’t even considered the duel a necessary part of this. Theatre never hurts, but the true work of stopping this man didn’t have anything to do with weapons. It was just a little show, an excuse to tell everyone what he’d done.
But when I heard he had the cowardice to decline the duel and escape all physical consequences, so smugly talking about it – “Guess I have no honor!” – I wanted him to pay.
Not even for Sayrei. I hardly know her.
No, ultimately, for myself. For all of the people who, in my life, have reduced me to nothing but a body.
Gianina told me, the last time we spoke, that someone as petty and common as me would never have anything that he didn’t buy with his body. That I lacked the worth and skill to get ahead in life in a legitimate fashion and I should just accept such bargains, because I would never become a bard unless some woman liked the look of me enough to bestow the honor on me.
It’s difficult to put those words to paper even now, when I have achieved so much. They raise whispers in my head. Madilaire promoted me to a full bard instantly upon becoming Poet Knight… and wanted me in her bed. I know it’s ridiculous. I know. The other things I’ve achieved here in Lithmore had nothing to do with sex.
But it haunts me, and it makes me so angry. No one should have to feel this, this sense that all they are in the eyes of someone else is an attractive body. And a bard especially should never feel like all they are is a whore, with no choice but to go along with a powerful person’s desire.
I let it make me too angry. It’s probably alright; the flogging seems to have also had the intended purpose of bringing the Justiciar’s crimes to light, and possibly with more humiliation than a duel. But… I lost my temper over a matter that ultimately has nothing to do with me.
When will I learn to control myself?
