Standing here in my room, I wondered what I was going to do next. It was clear that someone on this ship was attempting to take care of me. I would thank whoever it was. I needed to; it was the only thing that made this situation more bearable. Politeness and tolerance would get me much farther than being rude or disrespectful.

I glance around the room once more and discover a small table to the right. Approaching it, I noticed that several furs had been piled up next to it to look like a cushion of sorts. On top of the table was a stack of blank paper with several writing instruments.

For one brief moment, I stood frozen. I had no one to write too. My parents were dead; my brother would burn me alive if I tried, and I trusted no one. Still, I had to get my thoughts and feelings down before they disappeared. If nothing else, I would write for myself.

Settling myself down on the furs, I picked up one of the pens and a blank sheet of paper and started writing. I did not expect to write anything coherent. It was more putting words to paper and going from there. With every word that transferred to the article, I could feel a part of myself healing. I started at the beginning. Well, not the real beginning, but the date of our parent’s deaths. All of my concerns and thoughts and observations ended up on the papers.

Writing had always been therapeutic, but then, I was not supposed to know how to write. At least not in the way that Caesar Seven’s society expected. As the princess, however, my father and mother were able to say that I would need to learn to read and write if I were to help bring prosperity to the planet.

I stopped writing when my hand started to hurt and sat back for a moment. I had covered seven pages front and back in words. Reading over it, I knew that this was a story. My story and I was nowhere near done telling it. I wondered if anyone would read this or if I should burn these pages. No. I needed to keep this story with me. One day, it might be useful to look back at everything that has happened and know that I survived. I am strong.

Getting up from the table, I tried to focus on something else. There was no question that the universe was a vast and diverse place. One look at the ship that I was on was enough to tell me that. The strangers that were going out of their way to help me, due to some agreement with my mother or my aunt was what I found baffling. I did not know these people. They did not remember me. We were foreign to each other and yet they were risking the wrath of my brother to do this.

Nathaniel is dangerous. If he found out any of these people showed me the smallest amount of kindness he would kill them all; viciously and horribly. There would be nothing I could do about it. The guilt would ruin me. Guilt was not becoming of a princess, but right now, I was the furthest thing from a princess.

Glancing around my room once more, I caught sight of the Chrono on the wall. It was the only thing we had to keep time. Night and day were hard to ascertain in the black. The Chrono told me it was ten pm. I would need to try to sleep so that I could be refreshed and ready for my tasks tomorrow. The job I had did not seem hard, but I would still give it my all. Doing poorly would only reflect poorly on me.

Tir Andrel. That was our final destination. My aunt wanted me to meet a mysterious contact there. She would tell me very little about this contact. Neither would Matilda. Both were telling me that everything would be made clear when it was time. Vagueness was not helping me to be less scared.

Climbing into bed, I allowed myself to drift off with the thoughts of if I wanted to stay long enough to get to Tir Andrel. They were supposed to be our enemies. Deep inside a part of me was quite sure they would kill me on sight. Was I not a threat to them? How was I to meet a contact there and survive? Could I trust anyone?