maidservant in Malesov, of Malesov
“I sweep the beaten earth and scour pots. I only pray the men scrape their boots first.”
Things Matilda had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday after Whitsun, at None
Mistress Constance was counting the household purse today. My heart was in my mouth and I dropped a trencher. I pray to the Holy Mother she does not look too close at the copper. I gave Brok an extra scrap just to settle my nerves.
Nota scribaeThe maidservant was wringing her coarse apron the entire time she spoke.
the eve of St Pancras, at Vespers
The mistress found the copper jug under my cot in an old sack. I only put it there because the river water was too freezing to scour it properly with sand! Now she says I meant to pawn it, and I am too frightened to bring it out at all.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Thomas came stamping into the kitchen muttering foul curses about Wenceslas again, over that spilled ale. I kept my head down and stirred the pottage. The men here are terrifying when they hold a grudge.
He owes me three groschen and a bloody good apology, and you mind your stirring.
Nota scribaeDictated in a frantic whisper.
the third Sunday in Lent, at Terce
I sent a little something to Kolin with a peddler. God grant it reaches its mark. The apothecary draughts are so dear, and a bad lung is a terrible thing in this damp.
You have kin in Kolin? Never knew it. Better them than us in this frost.
Candlemas, before dawn
The frost is so thick on the bucket my hands are raw from hauling it. Brok didn't even bark when I went out, just shivered. I blew the embers to life for the cabbage, but it feels like the winter will never break.
Aye, my axe handle was frozen solid this morning. A cruel season.
Nota scribaeShe blew on her hands between every sentence.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You dropped it because you are clumsy. And stop feeding that brute my good scraps!