Diary, from the moment I first saw him, so handsome and proud, I was lost. When finally I learned who he was, it was too late. I had crossed the line of reason into a passion so intense it consumed me with its fire. I leave this world with but one regret. Never again will I feel the warmth of his strong embrace. The child born of our love will grow to be doubly strong, brave, proud—for the blood of two headstrong fools flows through her veins. The glow from the fire flamed to a burnished copper the head bent over the diary. As the hauntingly beautiful young woman closed the leather-bound book and handed it to the servant, her eyes burned feverishly, two hot coals a glittering contrast to the fine, porcelain skin. Dark circles rimmed the green eyes. Weakly she leaned back against the soft feather mattress and stared at the newborn babe lying soundlessly in the cradle.