December 13, 1553
Royal barge on the Seine en route to Anet

We left before daybreak and I have been out on the deck the entire time. It is chilly, but I carry my muff and I carry Puff in it. Yes, the dear little lapdog that Aunt Anne gave me fits in with just her pink nose sticking out. I can feel her little heart beating on my fingertips. I love this time on the river. I like to watch the night sky grow thin and pale as its darkness turns to grey. They wouldn’t let Francis stay on deck, as they fear he’s coming down with a sniffle or worse yet, ague. It is terrible when he gets the ague. One minute he is shivering cold and the next he is sweating, and it gives him terrible cramps in his legs. But Princess Elizabeth keeps me company, along with three of the four Marys. Mary Fleming is a lazybones and would never rise before the sun. We are all writing in our diaries. Princess Elizabeth is eight but very mature for eight. She wants to be like the big girls, so beside me she writes in a diary. She keeps asking us how to spell words.