I saw Blodwynn today. It has been a long while since last we spoke and, I must admit, I have missed her. Never have I known another woman to be of such a sunny disposition. She is always able to make me smile no matter how terrible I may feel, usually with little more than a cup of tea and some cake.
Unfortunately, whilst she did offer me cake this day - a particularly sticky looking bun - I was forced to decline this rare treat. My constant worry over the past days has left me feeling somewhat nauseous and I fear that the introduction of such a sugar-filled pastry to my stomach may have induced expectoration. Her bun, then, would have been wasted and that would have been a great shame.
Lustwyn came to find me later in the day. We spoke of many things, not least being her sudden departure from my house so many days ago and the reasons for it. I do not think that she understands why I find her outbursts to be so unwelcomed and for all my explanation on the subject, I doubt that she will learn. Nevertheless, we came to some manner of accord. We shall see how long it lasts.
She spoke to me of a woman called Izre whom she wishes me to meet. I refused. I have seen this woman only once before, but I do recall that her friends consulted me for weeks over her association with Drevorin and their worries over the issue. I know not how close she became to him in the end, but I do know that she sought him willingly, seeking to become a part of his insane schemes. A woman who would truly want to be a part of his plans is not a woman that I would care to get to know better. Besides, I have enough on my hands between the Legion and Cyfier, I neither need or want more trouble placed into my lap.
Speaking of him, I have not seen him of late. Nor have I heard any word of his misdeeds. As much as I wish that he may have reconsidered his plans, whatever they may be, I sincerely doubt that he has. I try not to dwell on it, but I find that my mind strays to him often; my concern over what he is doing, what that will mean for him and others but, more often than not, simply him. The frequency with which his image enters my thoughts is becoming a little disturbing.
