Year of the Boar, Eighth Month, Day 7.

It has taken until now for my temper to subside. I began to recount the conversation I had with the Chief the day before yesterday but after I had written my first sentence, I became so angry that I could do little but grip my brush until I snapped it.
Sol-Mae, the youngest of the Chief's wives and the one who dislikes me intensely decided to make her opinions about my affair with her husband clear to me. Why she thought I would care what she thinks I have no idea; evidently, I did care because it sent me into this paroxysm of rage. That is what has angered me more than any of what she said; that I care. She is not happy about it, of course and among other things called my parentage into question. She also suggested that I had all the allure of a farm animal and told me in no uncertain terms that the Chief was lying with me because he was free from all the etiquette that lying with his wives entails. In other words, he is doing little more than scratching an itch. Much of what she said made absolutely no sense at all, least of all the fact that Sol-Mae seriously seems to imagine that I intend to wed the Chief and join the Traders. This, she says will not happen; he will ditch me as soon as we land. I am unsure whether she simply set out to needle me because she felt like it or whether she genuinely believes any of what she says. I did not bother to reply to her rant because I know the truth. Whatever the Chief's motives might be do not really matter for I have no intention of wedding him and have no desire to travel with the Traders until the end of my days but if Sol-Mae chooses to believe those things, I am happy for her to get on with it. I see no need to disabuse her of any of her ridiculous notions; I simply wish she would stay away from me.
What sent me over the edge was the Chief's reaction; he actually laughed. He refused to even discuss it properly. Sol-Mae, apparently could be heard all about the ship and it was the Chief who brought up the subject before I had a chance. I am not to take any notice, he says. He will do as he chooses and if she wishes to remain married to him, she will rein in her acid. It was hardly comforting. He could have at least told me that I had slightly more allure than a farm animal. I have never considered myself particularly vain but even I have some feelings...
We did talk briefly about the pregnancy issue and all he had to say on the matter was that he does not want a child which I know only too well. I pressed him for an alternative to the herbs and his answer was abstinence. It was not quite the answer I expected and I must be honest with myself and say that I was not a little hurt by his lack of concern. Perhaps he is ailing... perhaps he has indeed lost interest... It might be for the best if he has but... I cannot help but hope that he has not... I know that this is folly but I cannot help wanting him.