Day Two-Twenty-Four: Speculamation

I had a HARSH giraffe rebound around 1 am this morning. Really, DO NOT LET ME EAT GIRAFFE AGAIN. Everybody in the caravan will thank you.

(I'm… I'm told I sounded like a machine gun. And when I asked what that was, the dude couldn't tell me, 'cause he didn't know. That's a TERRIBLE simile.)

Flatulence aside, I came to a rather disturbing conclusion this morning. Or a possibility. More likely a possibility 'cause I have NO way to back it up. I'd need evidence, which would make me a detective, and since I'm no detective I'm not likely to find evidence, 'cause to do that I'd need the patience and clear mind of a monk, and… well, let me get to the point: I think Driscol might be controlling Eve.

I know! I know. It's crazy. But hear me out, diary, listen carefully to my words. I doubt anyone else will, so you'd best help me. You are MY DIARY, after all. It's your job.

Eve is a wild card. She don't listen to no one. She does what she wants; you don't give her orders, you give her suggestions. If she follows through on that suggestion, then that's fantastic. If not, she goes off to murder something or to spook people with her odd speeches.

Today, though, when I arrived at the meeting hall, Evangelina totally ordered Eve in for the whole day - and she was Evangelina's only invited guard. I got the boot, and so did everyone else normally brought in to oversee the ambassadorial talks. I can understand why they wouldn't want ME around, what with my rapid fire belches, but the rest of the guards? The ones with normal stomachs? I don't get that. Especially since the other ambassadors all had their personal guards along.

But the kicker? Eve accepted the order. Without question. Evangelina barked at Eve, and Eve obeyed. What the hell? My daughter doesn't obey nuthin', not when somebody's talking to her like Evangelina was.

There's more. Eve has been acting weird since we left. She's struggling to get out messages, but I can't tell what they are - and I wonder if they're some kinda weird code. Y'know, like the letters Driscol and Evangelina were sending back and forth? And Driscol's bizarre language? If they've latched onto my little girl's mind, maybe she can ONLY communicate oddly like that.

Which might mean…

That Driscol's ALWAYS been to blame for Eve's behaviour…

And, hell, he might be to blame for her murdering all those rats…

GAH, I'm getting back into layered plots again. Nothing is simple when it involves that douchebag Driscol. My dad always said guys who slick their hair back are up to somethin', and with Driscol, boy, he sure was right. I will never trust a man who puts goats' grease in his hair again.

(I shouldn't anyway. That's nasty.)

Yeah. So, in other words, today was kinda unremarkable. Nothing's happened; I know very little about the ambassadorial talks; and so, too, does Queen Daena. I'm sure Princess Celine's ninjas are bringing info to Daena all the time, but if she knows something important, she ain't tellin' me or Libby.

We have nothing to do, and we're surprisingly bored of Bottomless, so Libby and I're gonna go get a late meal (SHE'S choosing my food, this time) while we wait for the ambassadors to let out. Then it's just one more day and, zoom, we're headed back home. Kind of a relief, that - the fistfight between daughter and mother aside, this trip has been really dull.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Guard