Day One-Ninety-Six: Suspicious kin

You know, I never noticed the coolness level of our castle. Its awesomeness has suddenly been revealed. I'm not sure what's changed: maybe it's because we have a house, or because there's something sweet about a nice, clear spring day, but, yeah. Home is suddenly great. Nobody else can compete with us in terms of sheer awesome.

Of course, it could be 'cause our queen now rides around in a giant mobile fortress. Who knows?

The peasants have been hard at work for the last two days (Saturday and Sunday never count, y'know) clearing big paths in the bailies so Queen Daena can roam around the castle. She's never been inside the walls, and it's only fair she get a chance to observe her kingdom first-hand.

Even with the lid on the Matriarch closed, it's a damn impressive sight. Kinda like a giant clam on wheels has invaded our castle. And when that clamshell pops open, there's the queen, kicking away on her tree, happy as can be. Most people are still wary of comin' close 'cause they don't wanna get run over and diced to bits by the blades on the bottom, but it's a hopeful sight to me. Things are back on track.

Also, another woman in my life has become an unstoppable physical force. This is a weird trend I've got goin'. Sure, I know a couple strong dudes, but they're outnumbered by the gals. Maybe I should go to a gym to catch up? Don't wanna get emasculated. We men need to maintain our pride.

But hey! House! House house house. I have a hoooooouse, and it's wonderfuuuuul, and it's got its own toileeeeeet, and even though I have to empty the toilet and toss the yucky stuff in the streeeeeeet it's still pretty cool. We get three whole rooms! That's better than most nobles get! Truly awesome, diary, truly.

Though it could… maybe… use some touching up. A lot of the floorboards are cracked. And the furniture's… kinda… well, we don't have any, though I think Libby's working on that today. And we still don't have glass windows, so people can kinda look in through the sides of the house and bug us… which reminds me of the no-door days, which ain't SO bad, but now that I have a bonafide house it feels like more of an invasion of privacy…

Hrm. Guess owning a house changes your perspective.

Problems. Minor problems. Fixable problems! I'm cool with fixable problems. Especially since I can fix 'em instead of attending to my guard duties. This'll be a GREAT place to hide when I'm bored of guarding, lemme tell ya. I'm gonna have so many naps during my shifts, it'll be criminal.

Everything's great today, diary. Really damn superb neato. Except - because there's always an except in my life - for my brother. Something's up with Robert.

During a lull in the day he dropped by the house to have a look. He doesn't have a house himself, and since Robert USUALLY gets things that I don't, I figured he would be jealous. He's always been the favourite of our folks, so me coming out ahead made envy inevitable. And I was totally looking forward to that moment.

Oddly enough, though, Robert seemed kinda detached from admiring my new digs. He oohed and aahed in all the right places when I was givin' him the grand tour, but once that was done he kept trying to drag the conversation in a different direction. He started out with a buncha general questions:

"Whaddya think about the castle, Dragomir?"

"You figure King Jeffrey's doin' a good job?"

"How 'bout the workers? You see them all the time. Think they're bein' treated fairly? And yourself? How they treatin' you, bro?"

"Any idea what the kill count is this month? Hmm. Pretty high, eh? Think we should be tryin' to lower that?"

"Don'tcha think we should get a say in the name of the castle every now and then? I kinda do. What do you think?"

After a dozen of these weird queries, I asked him, straight out, what was up. He didn't answer, but moved on to a much more direct question:

"What would you like to see served in the Beefiary, bro? If you had the choice, I mean. Go on, say anything. Just for kicks, like."

So I gave him a list. I gotta admit, I am a LITTLE sick of soup and stew and veggies and tarts all the time. Lesse, what'd I tell him again:

- Beef
- Roast beef, 'cause I know there's a difference
- Turnips
- Mashed potatoes
- Coleslaw with a bit of gravy on top - mmmm, colegravy
- Pigeons
- So much chocolate - I don't care if this sounds racist or something, but ever since Edmund showed up two weeks ago I've been craving sweets

I got so caught up in listing things off that I kinda lost track of where the conversation was headed. When I emerged from my slavering, Robert had a tiny grin on his face, but a dark expression in his eyes. He had his hand held out to me.

"So if I ask for your help, will ya give it? I probably won't, you bein' a guard 'n all, but just in case?"

I scratched my head. "Huh?"

No answer. Robert took my hand, shook it without asking, and left. Didn't say another word. I was too baffled and hungry to follow him.

He's got me confused, in short, diary. He's planning something. I just know it. He had the inventive gleam in his eye. What lay in the middle of that gleam, though, I'm really not sure.

Maybe I should try and find out…

Hey. Hey, Logan. You stepped in that little pile of dust I left by the cabinet the other night. I know you're still sneaking in to read my diary. Mind meeting me tomorrow? I have a job for ya.

Enough of that, it's time to sleep in MY OWN HOUSE,

Dragomir the Guard