housekeeper at Miskowitz keep, of Miskowitz
“I hold the larder keys and keep the master's household running, though the Lord knows it is hard enough with flour dear and a steward who hoards the groschen.”
Things Alice had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Monday before Whitsun, at Compline
Lettice claims the master's revenues are too shrunk by the soldiers on the roads to pay for a bundle of reeds. Christ almighty, the woman is pocketing the coin! I spent the night under a waxed sack shivering like a naked sinner. Sturdy the dog eats better scraps than what I have to live on.
Nota scribaeShe was rubbing her arms the whole time she spoke, though the evening was warm.
the feast of St Pancras, at Sext
Caught Anna giving half her bread to the pigs again. I know she sends every penny to that brother of hers in Prague, but what good is she to me if she faints over the wash tub? The work must get done.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
A grand feast for the master yesterday, and hardly a sack of flour to do it with. Matilda Cross and Edith were whispering by the spits again. I do not ask what they brought back from the baggage trains three winters ago, so long as the meat is not burnt.
Mind your own pots, Alice. The master ate well, didn't he?
We know how to make do. You should be thanking us.
Nota scribaeShe checked the iron keys at her belt thrice while dictating this.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at None
Amice was dragging the heavy buckets with her good arm today. I looked the other way. If the master sees her hobbling, he'll cast her out, and she works harder with one good hand than half the hired hands do with two. Slipped Sturdy a mutton bone when Lettice wasn't looking.
God bless you, Alice. The poultice my mother left me takes the worst of the ache away.
Candlemas, at Terce
The snow is melting right through the roof of the storeroom. I woke in a puddle. Lettice says there is a war on and thatch is dear, but I am the housekeeper of Miskowitz, not some beggar on the road! I'll catch my death before Easter if this keeps up.
Come sleep by the kitchen hearth tonight. It smells of grease, but it is dry.
Nota scribaeDictated in the yard. The woman was shivering violently.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Hold your tongue, Alice. The master's purse is not for your comforts.
My comforts? I am drowning in my bed, Lettice!