Dear Diary,
It wasn’t Sugar Berry’s fault. Mother, I don’t know if you’re reading these still, but I don’t want you to be angry at her. You’re scary when you’re angry. Worse than Father, because your anger burns quiet, and burns longer.
We’d just learned about the changelings, okay? It’s an important part of the nation’s history, so of course we’d cover it. It was extremely awkward for me, as much as the rest of the past that involves you or Father is, and I got all sorts of weird looks from everypony once the lesson was complete. Sugar Berry was the only one who sat with me during lunch. She said it must’ve been hard, hearing it all again after everything you both must’ve told me firsthoof.
She then took out her notebook, and asked what they’d gotten wrong in the lecture. I… I didn’t tell her everything, before you ask, but I did tell her about how they’d gotten through the spells you and Father cast, and how they’d taken over the bridesmares. The little details you’ve shared me.
At least you tell me things. Father never wants to talk about it. I understand why, considering what both of you experienced, but it still frustrates me greatly.
We were walking home after class when she started talking about how it could’ve gone better. How the guard could have done more to protect against the threat of an invasion. How you could have stopped them, since you knew what you were up against and what monsters they truly were.
Father only heard the last part. You know he’s as protective of you as he is of me. I think Sugar Berry wants to join the guard some day, but I’m afraid for her chances now.
At least, while Father’s anger burns hot and loud, it burns out fairly quickly. I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to say to Sugar Berry to comfort her tomorrow. If you do end up reading this, please take whatever Father tells you with a grain of salt. She didn’t mean what she said about you.
Sincerely, You know who I am.