A Journal Entry dated Sept 20 something, 813

Hey you dumb journal.
 
I’ve been unfairly banished again. This time my exile is less severe, but still — I am not welcome on the third floor for the time being, in order to let Dominic get some rest. (Actually, Edwin’s exact words were that I’m “hovering too much” and I “stress him out,” so, obviously this is not entirely for Dominic’s benefit.) Therefore, I have chosen to pout in the library in the hopes that someone will see me and take pity enough to release me from this undue punishment. In the meantime, I’d love to do some target practice with Nicole’s portrait here on the wall, but I have a feeling that decision would be frowned upon by many members of the house. Instead, I shall write a quick summary of recent events, I guess. Feels important to do.
 
I killed Frost. Dominic killed Solomon. El and I killed the Dowager Princess and Lasica. Dominic killed the king. El killed Philip. And don’t worry, Nicholas also had his fair share of killing, too. What a bloody trail we Sterlings leave. All for the greater good, so I was told.
 
Yeesh… I’m sure Elinor will prove a more interesting record keeper than I am.
 
Let me say something, though. I really thought revenge on Frost would be sweet, something I could look back on and savor after the fact. But — maybe the event was poisoned by the way it all played out, or maybe it was always going to leave my stomach uneasy — but I feel as though I’ve dealt with a venomous snake by swallowing it whole and hoping for the best.
 
It’s not helping my mood that Nicole’s smug face is staring me down from her high post on the wall. She was terrible. She was an absolutely terrible person and she got everything she wanted. Looking at this painting of her, I’m horribly reminded of how often our thoughts aligned during our group’s plotting and scheming. Agreeing with that psychopath once is chilling enough, but several times over? Really makes a halfling think.
 
Goddesses, I guess I have some self-reflection to do. All my life, I’ve been consumed with survival. “Moral goodness” was a luxury I literally could not afford. Even yesterday, when we staged a coup against an evil monarchy, I admit I was conflicted until I knew it could save Dominic’s life — which is plenty reason enough, if you ask me. We saved his life, and I can regret none of it for that reason alone. And yet, there is a twistiness inside my stomach I don’t like. That damned snake, biting me back.
 
I guess having the example of Elinor and Dom, and heck, maybe even Nicholas sometimes, has helped me see the importance of doing the “right” thing. And — as I have to keep reminding myself — there is no one left for me to be afraid of. I am free. No longer just surviving. So… is it time I… I don’t know, try and do some good in the world? I’m just… not sure where to begin.
 
No, actually, yes I am. Here’s something. Yesterday, when I came back to the Sterling estate and found that nothing had changed in the way of our class division, I felt… frustrated. My friends downstairs had gone right back to laundering our clothing and prepping our meals, despite many of them joining in yesterday’s uprising. The government has been successfully overthrown (results pending, though, I suppose) and still, we privileged members of society are allowed our rest and recuperation, while the low-born must forever toil onward. I don’t know why I expected anything else… but it’s clear to me now that much more work needs to be done.
 
I think I’ll meet with Berig, if he’ll let me. Make things up with him somehow. Really throw myself into his resistance project. Maybe this is where I can finally earn these privileges I’ve been handed. Maybe I can pay it forward, just a little.
 
Anyway. Time for me to go, I think. No one has noticed my sulking yet, and I have a large task ahead of me in convincing Mrs. Todd that yes, I do need that much flour to stuff Edwin’s pillow with.
 
So I’ll end on this: I am tired, but I know I have a lot to process about yesterday’s coup. The weight of our decisions hangs heavy on my soul. The world lost many good people yesterday.
 
Ugh, including Dominic’s poor hand. Everyone keeps telling me he’ll be alright, but that’s just not true. He’s all left, probably forever.
 
Until next time, you stupid book.
 
Signed,
Alidove Lorena Quickspell