July 16th, 1622

6 p.m. at the time of record-keeping

That burning look is gone. I proclaim this with relief, although the alternative is only mildly better. I say this because I know how to deal with it, whereas his other feelings for me are an entirely new experience. He has once again defaulted to disinterest, bordering on disgust and rage, which brought me back to my very first day here. For a moment, it really had seemed like I had finally gotten my foot in the door, even if attempting to walk into the wrong house altogether, but now, he has shoved me back out and I do not know where to go. I tried speaking to him over breakfast but received no reply whatsoever. He barely even lifted his gaze, stonewalling me harder than before. What is it that I must do to get through to him? To pique his interest? A different kind of interest, mind you, that would not compromise either one of us. I hope that future is still possible, despite our shared insanity yesterday. He seems to have forgotten about it, so I shall do the same.

Today I learned that one must follow a rather long list of social rules to remain relevant in high society or they shall be talked about. According to Princess Charlotte, that is a most terrible fate. She was kind enough to walk me through some of these rules after breakfast, even if they only marginally apply to me. Most of them dictate how bachelors and unmarried women must interact with each other, and since I am a member of the clergy, I am not treated like an unmarried woman. I exist outside of womanhood altogether, a sexless representation of the congregation. While that may seem odd to most people, it is what I am used to. Men should not look my way. That is why yesterday was so shocking. For some reason, Prince Nikolai stopped seeing me as a priestess and began seeing me as a woman. The mere thought is perplexing. Suddenly, we were playing a different game.

I could not help but think of us as the princess explained how courting season works. I say ‘us’ as if ‘we’ were anything at all, but I digress. Unmarried women seem to pay special attention to the bachelors in their lives and how the public sees them when they are together. It is very important to act in a certain way so as to send the correct message. Men will court the women that they are interested in by sending them gifts and requesting to spend time together. If a woman accepts their gifts, then she might reciprocate his feelings. It is very bad manners to accept several gifts by several different men; that sends a confusing message.

As the princess went on, I pictured her half-brother and I in a number of different scenarios and grew increasingly more anxious. My chest tightened, strangling me. What transpired between us was not even remotely similar to courting. Unmarried women do not hear those kinds of requests—unless, of course, they work in a certain field. Is that how he sees me? That thought was so upsetting that I was suddenly unable to hear the princess at all. Her voice disappeared from my ears. I was forced to step outside for a moment, and fanning myself, gulped for air as if I weren’t completely surrounded by it. My coif and veil came off as I sat down. It really seemed that I was going to faint, but breathing in deeply, that feeling eventually passed.

Princess Charlotte’s voice came back to me. I felt her delicate hands playing with my hair, and turning around, saw a beautiful smile on her face. Her warmth helped me calm down. We sat on the deck for a while, watching the fountain and the sky. She did not mention my strange reaction or how fiercely I had ripped off my coif and veil, happy to see the full length of my hair and how similar to hers it is in color.

“We are twins,” she told me, giggling. I smiled. If that is how she sees us, then I am perfectly fine with it.

Prince Nikolai has once again spent all day out. Apparently, it is his involvement in the royal guard that keeps him on the training grounds for such long periods of time. He also goes riding and hunting quite often. His many outdoor affairs explain his dark tan and why he always returns home drenched in sweat. I had not felt any which way about it beforehand, but now, I caught myself staring.

I saw him from my window this time. First, I heard the horses arrive, and looking out, saw him and the royal guard dismount. He did not seem to take notice of me, not really looking at my window, so I was not very compelled to look away. His wardrobe does not leave much to the imagination, exposing his arms and neck. His shirt clung to his frame, wet and nearly see-through. I feel so wicked writing this down—and I am—but it was such a lovely sight that I do not wish to forget it. Are all men quite this muscular?

**

10 p.m. at the time of record-keeping

Forgive my lewdness; I was in a bit of a state earlier. I have been in one, actually. It comes and goes. I have returned to myself now, back in my bedchamber. Dinner was successful. He is still apathetic toward me, not looking at me at all. I tried to talk to him anyway, seeing as I had nothing to lose, and to my surprise, he actually responded. This is how it went:

“I feel Your Highness should know, now that He has been blessed, that mass occurs every night at nine in the evening.”

“I am aware,” he said. "Thank you. I shall not attend.”

“May I ask why?”

“You know why.”

“Yes. It is only that attending would cost Your Highness nothing, so why not do it?”

“What would be the point of that?”

“Well, I would be able to check in on you.”

“You may check in on me at any time; mass has nothing to do with that. I need not pray nor attend mass to enter the Moon.”

“No, but the emotional relief that you will receive from mass should be enough reason for one to want to attend.”

“I am not a devout, priestess. None of your rituals make me feel anything whatsoever. They are of no value to me at all.”

“Do you not feel that the blessing has worked? I certainly feel you.”

He stared at me. “You can feel me?”

“Just as I can feel the girls at the convent, only your presence is a bit weak. Can you not feel us too?”

“No.”

“Not whatsoever?”

He shook his head, scowling with confusion. I had never seen a one-sided relationship with Queen Anne before. I did not even think it was possible. “It did not use to be this way,” he told me, sort of absently now. 

“What has changed?”

My question seemed to pull him back from his reverie. His eyes went cold, and suddenly, our conversation was over. Despite being stonewalled for the rest of the evening, I still attribute great value to our brief discussion. It gave me insight into why he has lost faith in us. While the blessing ritual has allowed me to find him on the Moon, it has not done the same for him. He still believes that he is utterly alone. How is that possible?

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