merchant's wife, of Kuttenberg
“I am the wife of Joerg Berg, keeping our merchant household in immaculate order. A well-ordered house is the shield against ruin, and discipline must be maintained.”
Things Ursula Berg had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Prime
The rain this morning is heavy. It seeps into the timbers and makes rising from bed a slow, deliberate task. I have sent out for a costly herbal salve, for the damp air demands it. Joerg must not see the ledgers fall behind simply because the weather is foul.
Nota scribaeShe sat perfectly stiff the entire time she spoke.
the Thursday after St Mark, at Vespers
The servant girls are gossiping again about Christine Cooper and Avice Thatcher fighting over shears. It is common peasant behaviour to lend what one cannot afford to lose. I have told the maids that if I hear another word of it in my kitchen, they shall be dismissed without wages.
It is easy to preach from a high chair, Frau Berg, when you have silver to buy your own shears.
the third day of Easter week, at None
I try to keep the peace at the dinner table, but it is a bitter trial. Else insists on working at the tavern, pouring ale for carters and common miners. Joerg despises it, and I can hardly blame him. A merchant's daughter should have more pride than to act as a barmaid.
I earn my own coin, stepmother. That is more than sitting like a statue in the parlour all day.
The girl brings shame on my name. You must discipline her better, Ursula.
Nota scribaeShe paused here, rubbing her lower back before continuing.
the Monday after St Gregory, at Terce
I passed Magdalena Shepherd in the lower street today. We did not speak, but we shared a glance. We both remember the Osel mine cart from the autumn of ninety-five. Some burdens are borne in silence, for the men of this town have no patience for weakness.
God grant us strength, Ursula. The wheel spares no one.
Candlemas, at Compline
The store-rooms are locked, the hearths are safely banked, and the ledgers for the week balance to the very penny. Joerg requires a flawless house, and he shall have it. Now I may finally seek my bed, though sleep rarely comes easily these nights.
Nota scribaeDictated in the parlour. She asked me to make sure the ink did not smudge.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
The damp is a cruel master, Ursula. I know it well.