.:the nature of sacrifice:.

And I thought this couldn't get worse. Michael is furious. Priscilla Chattox-Kyteler is also furious, although I've told her she doesn't have any idea what's really going on. My solicitor says he'll draw up the papers I need to get my daughter back home, but that Michael won't like it if I file them. I told him to draw them up anyway. We'll get to the bottom of this.

Domitian is either an idiot or treacherous. I should have known not to trust any of those people. Not that he has any reason to love his own kind, when his mother refused to marry the man who sired him (for very good reason) and his father refused to speak to her afterward; and then saw fit to let him sire a child on and marry his own half-sister rather than claiming the girl as his own. (He will most likely be quite angry when he learns the truth about Clarissa Valeria Zabini. But they didn't marry, and she can't have children. Gregor can, and does; I wonder why she can't.) I suppose Liane will at least be sent to school, for however long there is a school. She'll like that. Liane is as good a girl as she can be, coming from blood like that. But Dracaena will surely ruin her; that's what she does.

At least I know where Portia is, and that she's safe. Priscilla believes I don't care about my daughter at all, and so does that Allison chit. They just don't understand the true nature of sacrifice. I found some letters Portia received from that damned Malfoy boy. I wish she had told me that she was convinced she would die if she ever bore children. She must have told him something awful, and persuasive, to convince him to kill his own child--or his lover's child.

Not a word. Not a word from my daughter. Not a word from Nicodemo or Dracaena. Not a word from my grandson. Or Ellie Chang or Verity Umbridge. Not even Helena, not that I expected much from Helena.

I’ve not been this embarrassed in years. Ellie and Verity and Helena, Servilia and her nest of snakes…all of them here in my parlour and no sign of Portia. We had to have tea without her. Servilia doesn’t believe that she’s ill, of course. But I’m not very worried that someone will tell her the truth, because nobody knows what it is!

Nicola was brilliant; she always is. She’ll marry again, now that Austin’s near grown and she’s still very young, and I’ll miss her, but what can I do with Monty gone? It’s terrible, losing my son; will I also have to lose my daughter-in-law? Adelaide did her best but she’s such a Ravenclaw. At least Lavvy didn’t sort Ravenclaw.

I’ll never understand why none of my children were Gryffindors; all Slytherins, like Quentin…none of them seem to believe in anything.

I’ve filed a missing persons report, and Portia is not at Mungo’s. I’ve tried a Locatus, but the spell isn’t working, which means that wherever she’s gone, she’s well-warded. I would suspect the Malfoys, but why would she go to Dracaena of all people? The only thing I can think of is that she’s run off with Artisson and Alessio. I could believe, all too easily, that she and Artisson decided to drown their sorrow at Alessio’s marriage together. If I hadn’t read the papers. And if I didn’t know how much in love she is with Nico, no matter he doesn’t deserve her at all.

Damn it. I’m worried.

Tonight we are all going to the theatre; it's Evangeline's opening night as Morganna, and Michael is so excited for her. It's my grandson Austin's eighteenth birthday--I wish he could be here; he appreciates these things so deeply, and he's been so invaluable lately. Of course, if I were Dracaena Malfoy I could get my grandchildren out of school whenever I chose. It must be nice to fit so perfectly into one of Dion Fortune's pathetic little Arthurian fantasies.

I do hope Portia won't insist on moping around the house. She needs to put a brave face on things. If she does, though, I suppose it will only make her husband look even worse.

Speaking of theatricals--I do wonder if Lady Malfoy has baked enough bread to go with that circus she's planning. Or if she just plans to let them eat wedding cake.

Rumour has it that Nicodemo's younger brother Alessio is about to be married. I can see nothing but advantage in any of this, even if it turns out to be true that the girl won't have children. Things are beginning to look salvageable for the first time in over a month.

I think I have finally convinced Portia that life will be easier for her at home. No sense in her rattling around in an empty apartment, coming home from her social events and her charity work to the deafening silence of an empty bed and an emptier cradle. If only she'd had children.

I need to talk to Gabrielle about next week's issue.