April 24, 1554

I think about the poison rumours that whirl about Queen Catherine. I write this now and I pray no one ever discovers this diary. But I must write in it. Perhaps if my mother were here, I would not feel this way. I have my friends but I have no mother to whom I can tell my most secret thoughts and fears. A daughter and a mother have in a sense a shared heart. There are still many things that I cannot disclose because of the distance from my mother, and there are many things that a normal girl might disclose to the hearts of her closest friends, but since I am a Queen I cannot. Thus my diary has become my paper heart.