“It is hither, coming through! Delivery for the one and only barmaid of Augborough, the beautiful Matilda,” I bellow, villagers moving out of the way as I slide the heavy cart I’m pulling to a halt right in front of the beerhouse, almost running into the stout, irritable, antiquated widow. “Straight from the brewery!” She turns to me, raising a bushy eyebrow at the wobbling barrels on the cart before nodding in approval. She then glowers at me, inspecting me up and down, and shrugs at the ends of my gown, which I have tied a little higher than usual, revealing the leather boots that reached my calves. She orders her sons to load the barrels into the local pub with a yell, her shrilling voice booming across the center of the village. Ah, good ol’ Matilda. “Gramercy, lass, yer timing is impeccable, as always! Here's ye payment, and— hold on, where is that blue-eyed lad? Ain’t he supposed to be with ye? That scobberlotcher leaving all the weight-liftin’ to the woman!” “At ease, Matilda

“Cheese…” my childhood friend mumbles to himself whilst I rip the bread I bought in half to share for the noontime meal. “It has been a while since I last bought whey.” “Well, if you were not frequently insistent on giving me most of your daily earnings and then running off before I refuse and return it to you, you would be able to buy some proper meals for you and your father, you stubborn oaf.” Nicolaus raises his forefinger at me, to hush me perchance, before leaning against the delivery cart. He spreads some of the cheese onto the bread with a small knife, heartily biting into the pastry before sighing in satisfaction. I lean on the cart next to him, watching him savor his meal. He then turns to me, with his mouth full, to tell me the same thing he has always told me ever since we were young: “It is more important that you and your family get fed.” I give the blonde a wry look and take a bite of my bread, savoring the crusty exterior. While he continues spreading an excessive

Can things get any more difficult today? I think it can. “You want to confront the Eadmond Davidson?!” my childhood friend exclaims whilst doing our daily tasks. Today, we are transporting farmer George’s crops from his farm to his brother’s stall, which is on the other side of the village. “Could you be any louder, Nicolaus?” I retort with a scornful tone. “I do not think everyone heard you properly.” The blonde bows his head in embarrassment before pulling the cart faster. I keep up with his pace, whispering to him that I am being serious. After discovering the truth of who my father is three days ago, there has been nothing on my mind but meeting him in person. Not only do I have the chance of having a better life with my family, I may also be able to convince him and his father Lord Edgar to lessen the demand for crops every harvest to finally end Augborough’s famine. Every villager, young and old, may finally have filling meals every single day. Despite all the hard work we

“Are you out of your bloody mind, Maia?” my blue-eyed friend says, conveying his opinions about my schemes. “Death?! It seems to me that you will be the one on the other end of that blade!” “If Lord Edgar claims that his son, my father, slayed my mother, I believe 'tis just proper that someone does something about this injustice.” “But assassinating the nobleman?!” I fall silent, unable to look into my friend’s eyes. ‘Tis the early hours of the morn, and the full moon has only begun to set. Uncle Wyatt reprimanded me yesternight while drunk on ale for confronting the Davidsons. Eustace, who had apparently been aware of my intentions, is sleeping soundly with him inside the house, while my childhood friend and I are outside our doors, conversing about yesterday’s events: Lord Edgar himself admitted that he had ordered his son, Lord Eadmond, to murder an innocent woman he had impregnated— my mother, who resorted to prostitution to feed her family— to prevent a scandal in the past. D

“To the next village I go, then…” I think aloud, tiredly walking through yet another village’s forest edge. I feel my booted feet touch soft, damp dirt after walking around all night yesternight on the cobblestone paths, searching for a person— anybody at all— who seemed experienced enough to teach me how to defend myself. I’m troubled by the actuality that I’m not making any progress. Two days have passed since I've embarked on my quest to avenge my mother, only to come to my senses that I must learn how to fight to be able to do so. Therefore, I have a goal I must achieve before I can proceed to my main goal. “‘Do it,’ I said. ‘It will be simple,’ I said. Ugh, things are not this simple, Maia.” And… I realize I’m talking to myself… again. I sigh. I’ve no idea where I am, nor how far I am from my home. Uncle Wyatt must be so worried by now, but I cannot fall back just yet— I have… direr concerns for now. As drained and frustrated as I feel, I carry on to the next village I shall