Rarity turned herself around and laid her eyes upon the book before her while the questions rose. She made her way out of the bedroom again and down the stairs. Through the archway in order to just plop down in her sofa in the living room. On the small table were a quill and a jar of ink that got levitated towards it. The two items stood on a cabinet within the room  under normal circumstances. They would have been used to write notes with if she and a client were talking about the looks of a new dress or suit. But the journal was no exception to that. Rarity then sat down on the sofa. There she allowed a deep exhale to leave her and closed her eyes for just a little moment.