1 1881

Another year to start another decade. Today, I, Maria Tatiana Manner, a child of the Duke of Rus, do not think in any possible way that I am writing on this smelly journal given by my grandmother last Yuletide. I never want to live this way, a princess in a cage.

Why? Why am I breathing yet I am not living? Is this what they call 'existing'?

Is my tone too sombre and melancholic? I guess so, well, I don't want to sound someone dying of ennui, as my older cousin, Adeline, always says, so let me recount some dry facts about me and my family.

As stated earlier, I am Maria Tatiana Manner nee Spencer. My father, you must have guessed, is the Duke of Rutland or Rus, whichever you prefer as they are basically the same, but most people call him Charles. My mother, is Lady Dionne Spencer, and she comes from a landed gentry somewhere far. She wouldn't divulge the name of her origins, I wonder why? Is she really my mother? We both do look like each other, so that is not a possibility. She is a sunny person while I am a 'moony' individual. Just laugh at my satire. I have an annoying older brother who goes by the name of Edmund, he got spindly legs, and thinks he is every lady's dream man, to which I object.

Edmund, you see, my dear older brother, is already out of school and is now out in the society chasing anyone with skirts, always out with his friends with the same mindset every bloody night and always go home with a brandy in his breathe. Disgusting. But the only redeeming character about him is that he is easy to tease. He is the only reason why I really live a life. And he knows, he told me once. According to him, he knows why I always am up to no good, and as a good brother, he will allow it. What a Neanderthal!

I have a cousin who lives with us and her name is Adeline Montgomery. Her parents are already at the family crypt. They died due to an outbreak of a disease somewhere in India. She was an infant then, when that happened. She is two years older than me and right now, she is already in her 18th year of living. She has long debuted into society but she still has no offers for marriage, and I wonder why?

Oh well, she must be still waiting for the 'right one' as she usually says. Adeline is a blond with blue eyes. Typical attractive blonde, only she is not dumb. Beyond that innocent facade is a scheming mind, as she usually plans with me whenever I decide to play a prank on Edmund. And mind you, her ideas are all genius! If only she is not a girl, she might have been a great one in the field of science and other field of intelligence exclusive only to men. Her case makes me wonder why women are banned to enter politics when we have a queen ruling the kingdom, and Queen Victoria is so good at what she does. Why are women not allowed to practice medicine? Are women only decorations and to be treated as play things? Aren't we all created to be equals as the Bible says? Or is it the pastor who told me that? Oh well, I don't know.

We live at the manor of the family seat. But though the place is huge, the place is dead and silent on most days. My family lives in London most of the time especially when the Season is about to start. We have a house in Chelsea and we stay there whenever my parents are on an errand. My father is a member of the House of Lords and Edmund usually accompanies him in the Parliament. Edmund, I forgot to mention, has finished his law degree at Cambridge, and he is striving to be like papa. Mama, on the other hand, is busy making calls to other ladies of her circle, and most times, I am dragged to attend at those dry tea times! Adeline fares well than I on those trips, as she is a social chameleon!

I have a grandmother, the Dowager Duchess, and I swear, she is not someone you crossed! She lives half of her life both in India and America, but grandfather fetches her from those horrid places when they got married. My grandmother is a strong one and with an iron will. I still remember when I was five, she scolded papa about some woman whose name is Marta, and oh poor papa, after that hearty scolding which reverberated throughout the manor, he leaves her parlor with his head down. I have never seen papa so utterly defeated like that. But as I grew older, I realized that Marta must be papa's other woman. No wonder grandmother exploded like that. I pity him.

Grandmother, aside from being too strong in her ways, has a gentler side too. No Yuletide dinner is complete without her famous apple pies and chocolate cake. She is the best in cooking, and the cook is no match for her. And the best time I have with her are those spent in the kitchen. I usually help her in making pies just for the reason that I can have an extra portion to eat in advance. But somehow, as years go by, grandmother passes to me all her knowledge in cooking. And I am proud of it.

Well, that's it! My stomach is grumbling already at the thought of apple pies. Time to sneak at the kitchen...

-Maria Tatiana Manner