August 31, 1146

To say that I had a horrible sleep last night would be quite the understatement.

My father has some business with my uncle the king, so we are staying at the castle for a week or so. Ordinarily, I imagine my sister would share a bed with young Princess Holladrin--Lord knows that little girl just thinks the world of Athalia, for some reason or another--and I would then share with Celina, who is, if nothing else, much more tolerable than Athalia. However, there has been a mild illness about the royal shire of late, and both Holladrin and Celina have caught a bout of it, so unfortunately, I had no choice but to bunk with my sister.

My God, I hope Celina recovers before the week is up!

"Athalia!" I must have snapped for about the eighth time that night. "Stop kicking me!"

But of course, she was sound asleep. Does everything that child touches turn to gold? What lucky star was she born under, anyway?

When I tell Father that she spent all night flailing about, I doubt he'll believe me. In his eyes--and everyone else's, for that matter--Athalia can do no wrong. This has grown even more tiresome now that she is of an age when boys have begun to find her appealing; I daresay her future, lovestruck husband will be in for a nasty shock when she kicks him to a pulp in their wedding bed.

"Stop it!" I growled at her contentedly wriggling form. Oh, how I wish our brother was still young enough for Athalia to bunk with him instead!

No response but a snore--a snore, for the love of God! Any man who wants her should really have seen her then.

Sighing, I threw back the covers and pulled myself up; there was little doubt in my mind that the rug on the floor would be much more comfortable. "Fine, have it your way! I hope you realize that you get the floor tomorrow night!"

She muttered something about Cambrin this and Father that, then some nonsense about Prince Oswald. Oh, if only the Earl of Bandera had brought his family out too--then I could have shared a bed with Geneva, leaving Eudocia to Athalia in my stead.

"I loathe you," I hissed between gritted teeth--again, Athalia took no notice.

I glanced at the candles that Athalia had insisted on leaving lit; I contemplated knocking them over, bringing her what she deserved and sparing myself of any future nighttime beatings. Instead, I just blew them out--beneath the covers, Athalia shuddered.

I then proceeded to the rug with a triumphant "Ha!"