maidservant at number nineteen, of Kuttenberg
“I am just a maid, sir, keeping my head down and doing my chores so Master Simon stays pleased.”
Things Sarah had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday after Whitsun, at None
The priest looked right at me after Mass. My knuckles are white from twisting my apron. If he reads my name on Sunday for the tithe I owe, Master Simon will put me out in the street. I have no copper left. Not a penny.
Nota scribaeThe girl wept onto the page. I wiped it dry.
the Feast of the Invention of the Holy Cross, at Prime
Mistress Susanna has been pacing the hall all morning, rubbing her neck and snapping at shadows. I just keep my eyes on the floor and sweep. There is not a single speck of ash left on the hearth. I am trying to be as silent as a mouse.
Stop staring at my feet and go scrub the trenchers with sand, you foolish girl.
the Wednesday of Easter week, at Terce
My shoulders ache terribly from hauling the heavy wooden buckets from the street well. I saw Alice there. She works just as hard but she has pennies hidden away for herself. I wish I had her foresight. My purse is empty as a drum.
Hauling water is a mule's work, aye. Keep your head down and save your coppers next quarter.
the Thursday of the third week of Lent, at Vespers
Young Master Joseph does nothing but sigh over that girl Constance who was sent away to Prague. He sits by the fire I just banked and mopes. I have no time for foolish love. If I stop moving, the pottage won't be made.
You know nothing of a broken heart, Sarah. Constance is my true love.
Nota scribaeShe muttered the last part very quietly, looking at her shoes.
Ash Wednesday, at Sext
I fear I have made a terrible mistake. After Epiphany I gave my whole quarter's wage to a carter to take to my sick mother. Now the priest at Saint James looks at me with an unforgiving eye because I cannot pay my tithe.
Coin given to a carter is coin thrown in the mud, lass. You will never see it again.
Nota scribaeI advised the girl to pray, but the parish ledger is the parish ledger.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I told you to hoard your coin, Sarah. The church does not care if your mother is sick.
See that you do not bring shame to my house, girl. I pay you fair.