maidservant at the tailor's house, of Kuttenberg
“I haul the water and keep the flagstones clean for Mistress Emma, from first light until dusk.”
Things Anna had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the second Tuesday of May, at Vespers
I cannot sleep for the pounding in my chest. The slate was brought out today and Mistress Emma was staring at the tallies. I scrubbed the stones thrice over just to keep my hands busy. Holy Mother preserve me if the count is short.
Nota scribaeThe girl was weeping and wringing her soiled apron the entire time she spoke.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
There was no extra work to be found at the market, though I asked every baker. A loaf costs more than it did last year. I only hope the carter passing the northern road made his delivery safely, so the poor do not starve.
Why are you bothering carters in the market when the heavy iron kettles need filling?
the Feast of the Annunciation, at None
Lady Ellen dropped her spoon again today and struggled with the heavy iron latch on the buttery door. I hurried to open it for her. She is too gentle for this hard world, and missing her father Edmund still.
Thank you, Anna. My hands are just a little clumsy in this bitter cold.
Nota scribaeDictated in a great rush on the way to the street well.
the Thursday after Saint Matthias, at Terce
My knees are bruised black from the flagstones. It is muddy out, and the boots leave such a mess in the passage. I try to be quick. I stayed awake three nights nursing the Mistress last autumn, perhaps she remembers that when I am slow.
Grace is earned by a clean floor, girl, not by whining.
the morning of Candlemas, at Prime
The winter chill is bitter, and they say the alms-houses are freezing. Christ almighty, it is hard to think of the poor crippled men shivering there. I borrowed a few pennies just to light a candle for my dead father. I swear I will replace it.
Borrowed from where, Anna? See me in the kitchen at once.
Nowhere, Mistress! Just the old cracked clay pot by my straw bed.
Nota scribaeShe asked to strike out the part about borrowing pennies, but I had already inked it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
The slate is exactly as it should be, Anna. Stop fretting and fetch the morning wood.
You work too hard, Anna. Sit and rest a moment.