Day Two Hundred-Twelve: The Great Tagalong

"I have an idea, Dragomir. A better one than last time. I'll come visit you tomorrow.

Logan"

Which is, you'll probably admit, weirdly formal. I'm used to Prince Logan spewing his utter nonsense-talk. Almost miss it, now. What's stranger, though, is that he didn't actually write it in you, diary. Just jotted it down on a slip of parchment and left it on my bed stand.

Has he gained some new measure of respect for personal belongings? Considering he knew of my connection issues with Eve, IIIIIII doubt it.

And that's not the only thing weird about the prince. He's obviously still up to his hijinks, 'cause he's still checking you daily, diary, but… he looks… off. Pale. Like he's always tired. He was like this last week, too, and the week before… is he getting sick? I asked him, but he says he's fine, so…

Hrm. Should I report this to The Baron? I need to talk to him about the rats fleeing anyway… he's probably worried 'bout 'em, what with him and the little blighters being in cahoots and all. Though that'll let HIM know that I

STOP IT. Stop it, Dragomir. You don't need to reiterate every plot point detail of your life each week. You remember them; Prince Logan presumably remembers 'em; that's good enough. Nooooobody else is watching.

… are they?

ANYWAY

I mulled over the problem of getting to know my fair Eve all this morning, and I kept it up until Logan popped his head out of one of the corridors leading to the dungeons. Damn near scared the urine outta me. Sly little bugger, you are, Logan!

Despite his overall lack of enthusiasm and energy, Logan is still keen to help me cross bridges with Eve. He out-and-out told me that he wants his wife (STILL SO WEIRD) and his father-in-law (not as weird but STILL DAMNED QUEER) to get along. He wants a happy little family, and he insists that there's more to Eve than just a genocidal block of ice.

How does he know that? Not a clue. Maybe they play Kick the Clam together or somethin'. Only thing I've ever seen 'em do is fight in the bailies, and that was a hell of a thing, lemme tell you. They'll be quite the married couple if they ever have an argument.

In order to stimulate 'bonding', Logan decided to impose a 'work study program' on all of the guards in the castle, effective tomorrow. For the next three days, a handful of guards are going to be paired with a royal guard, aka a member of the Omega Corps. The 'normal' guards, implied to be the 'shitty' guards, will learn by shadowing the corpsmen 'n women.

(Though most of 'em are men. Same goes for the normal guards. The powers that be say women aren't that suited to fighting, 'cept in irregular cases like Eve. I say dudes like Captain Cedric are just avoiding the possibility of emasculation. Tch. If I ever had my own castle or town or whatever, you bet your ASS I'd let the women guard 'n fight 'n stuff.

Y'know.

'cause I don't wanna.)

Sexism aside, Captain Cedric ain't happy with the job shadowing idea. He thinks he's the best guard alive, Omega Corps or not. Must prickle his pride somethin' fierce to tag along with some dude he detests. I bet he's writing a melancholic poem 'bout it RIGHT NOW. BAHAHA.

So what's the point? In a turtle shell, this plan is a long, complicated way of landing me with Eve while she carries out her, ah, duties. I guess she counts as a royal guard, though I don't think I've EVER seen her stand guard. 'cept maybe over one of her kills. Does it count if she's gobbling down horseflesh while she guards? Not sure… technicalities…

So, yeah. Today's my last day of watching slop buckets. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to follow my little girl on her patrols. We're gonna talk, and bond, and turn into a proper father and daughter combo. DragoEve, we'll be called.

Or, more likely, she'll flay me alive.

Eat me.

Spit out the bones.

Then eat those.

Spit out the remains.

And set them on fire.

That sounds like Lord Knight Eve, yessir.

I really shouldn't be as afraid of my baby as I am, diary.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Guard