housekeeper, of Pritoky
“I tend the hearth and mend the wool for nine souls at Obchodnicky statek. A quiet day is my only prayer.”
Things Else had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at None
I saw Heinz Muller in the lane today. He gave me a look that chilled my blood. If a woman wrote a foolish thing years ago, on good parchment, surely it would have rotted by now in a damp chest? I pray the mice have made a nest of it.
Nota scribaeShe twisted her apron the whole time she spoke.
the feast of Saint John before the Latin Gate, at Vespers
The supper pottage went cold tonight. Emma and Roger took up shouting over Otto's arable strip before the bowls were even filled. I served the bread and kept my eyes on my hands. Nine years of the same quarrel, and the earth cares nothing for either of them.
the Wednesday after Easter, at Terce
William tore his tunic again hauling timber. I spent the morning rubbing lye into the stains and stitching the shoulder. I do pride myself on a neat seam, though my hands are so red they hardly feel the needle anymore. The wenches were no help at all.
We were carrying water from the stream all morning! We cannot be at the tub and the well both.
My thanks to you, mistress. The wood was heavy, but the tunic holds fast now.
Nota scribaeDictated while scrubbing a wooden tub.
the third Sunday of Lent, at Prime
My mother Cecily sent word with a carter from Suchdol. Just a greeting, but John asked again if she had sent the copper kettle. When I told him no, his face grew so dark I thought my heart would stop. I wish that kettle had been melted down for pennies.
the eve of Candlemas, at Compline
I was sorting the winter woollens in my chest to see what the moths had eaten. I reached the very bottom and felt my breath catch. Everything is as I left it, folded away in the dark, but I live in dread that someone else might look inside.
Some things are best left forgotten at the bottom of a chest, Else. Let the winter pass.
If it is only old woollens, mistress, why do you guard the chest so fiercely?
Nota scribaeShe spoke softly and asked me to write nothing of what she kept in the chest.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Parchment keeps very well in a dry box, Else. One might read it as clear as the day it was written.
What is this about parchment? If you need something written, I will ask the priest, but we have no coin to waste.