-
Journal Entry 54
12.07.2026 Bear with me, my dearest journal; my thoughts continue to demand transcription. Two journal entries in two days is not the norm for me. However, I need—and want—to document my feelings. Upon returning from Zum Alten Anker, I was unable to get my conversation with Zechariah out of my mind. There was something unique and intriguing about the pub’s owner that piqued my curiosity. Who is this man? What is his story? He was born and raised in Rüdersdorf, yet he carried himself and spoke as though he were an esteemed alumnus of Cambridge or Oxford. Perhaps Harvard or Princeton? Regardless, Zechariah made me feel comfortable as I recounted…
-
Journal Entry 53
12.07.2026 As I walked into the Zum Alten Anker, I felt an immediate and unsettling sense of fear. The feeling dissipated, however, when the pub’s bartender and owner, Zechariah, glanced at me and greeted me with a slight nod and a smile. There was no doubt that he recognized who I was. Zechariah did not pry into my story, nor did he treat me differently from the other patrons enjoying their beverages and meals. His deep voice was kind and reassuring. He gave me a history lesson about Rüdersdorf and explained how the small fishing village, with its Scandinavian architectural influences, had slowly developed into an economic stronghold on Dorstenland’s…
-
Journal Entry 52
11.07.2026 You are probably wondering why I am writing a second journal entry today. Well, my dearest journal, I cannot seem to halt my racing thoughts. Over the last couple of weeks, I have been so focused on the events in the basement that I blocked out where my troubles in Rüdersdorf began. The memory blindsided me as the train pulled into the station. Off in the distance, I saw the building—the Rüdersdorf Inn. At first glance, the five-story building, with its pointed roof, stabbed me in the gut. The Inn was the last place I remembered before waking up in the basement and vomiting the previous night’s dinner. I…
-
Journal Entry 51
11.07.2026 There is no doubt in my mind that I was having second thoughts before boarding the train to Rüdersdorf. My thoughts were racing. My palms were sweaty. I kept asking myself whether returning to my personal hell was worth it. In the end, I took my seat and ventured north. Riding on a train is not something I usually do anymore, not since becoming Jonas’s private secretary. I remember when Jonas and I were younger, before he became King, and we would board trains without an agenda. Upon our return, the same scene seemed to repeat itself: the voice of Jonas’s father, King Edwin, roaring with displeasure throughout the…
-
Journal Entry 50
10.07.2026 The King was not impressed by my decision to travel alone to Rüdersdorf. I explained how important it was for me to visit the basement on my own. Jonas’s concerns are valid. He is worried about a possible negative reaction I might have without someone with me to provide support. The King believes that I will be able to move on from the memories of torture and captivity if I continue with therapy. Jonas also expressed that my trauma could be aggravated by returning to the site of my tragedy. I declined Jonas’s offer to have members of his security detail accompany me to Rüdersdorf. My King has a…
-
Journal Entry 49
09.07.2026 It feels as though a fortnight has passed since I had decent sleep. Waking up this morning at 4:45 a.m. was even more evident that I needed to clear my mind. Drinking tea in a quiet atmosphere has always helped me focus on what has been bothering me. My concentration at work is lax. Even Otto and Emma have expressed worry about the change in my personality. One moment I feel melancholy, then flat, then angry at the world. The decision was cemented in my mind as I sipped tea. I’ve decided to return to Rüdersdorf to put to bed the torment which has plagued my dreams for almost…
-
Journal Entry 48
06.07.2026 I am not usually one to complain about fitness, but the King certainly pushed me this morning during the workout session with his security detail. I prefer to work out in the comfort of my own home, where it is only me, my equipment, and my music. Jonas has been encouraging me lately to be more social. He has mentioned on more than one occasion since we returned from Asia that he senses something is on my mind. You know there is. I know there is. However, it is difficult for me to express what I feel to others. I was never like this. My whole life, I would…
-
Journal Entry 47
04.07.2026 I accompanied the King to a celebration at the Residenz des Botschafters der Vereinigten Staaten. The American Ambassador to Dorstenland invited Jonas to celebrate the United States’ 250th anniversary. Jonas presented the ambassador with a framed plaque congratulating the U.S. on behalf of the citizens of Dorstenland. The overcast skies and rain did not prevent the ambassador from providing his guests with a typical American cookout, complete with hot dogs, hamburgers, watermelon, and corn on the cob. While Jonas made his way from conversation to conversation with the guests, I was graciously allowed to help manage the barbecue. The planned fireworks display was cancelled due to the weather; however,…
-
Journal Entry 46
03.07.2026 Late this afternoon, I hosted a gathering at my residence for friends and family to watch Dorstenland’s football team play during the FIFA World Cup 2026. I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for Emma. She loved playing football as a center midfielder, but her days on the field ended when she was kidnapped. It remains difficult for me to even speak or write about the events that led to Emma’s paralysis. I suspect that at some point in my journal entries, I will share the details. Lately, I feel as though I am processing closure for what my family and I have been through. Removing and storing most…
-
Journal Entry 45
01.07.2026 With heavy hearts, Otto, Emma, and I reluctantly packed away Karina’s personal belongings. One month from now will be six years since Karina’s body washed ashore along the Gulf of Finland. I never removed Karina’s belongings from our master bedroom. Her dresses, shirts, jewelry, everything that made my wife beautiful, remained in the same position since the day she, Otto, and Emma were kidnapped. I am not sure why it took me as long as it did to decide to move on. Perhaps somewhere in my heart, there remained hope that Karina would return home. Returning home to her children. Returning once more into my arms. As I placed…



















