Blood or Ink

One midsummer’s day-
“No, that’s not right.”
Once upon a time-
“Too traditional.”
In the beginning-,
“Oh, where did I get that? Agh, that’s from the Bible!”
A long, long time ago, in a place far, far away-
“No, that simply won’t do! I fear I will never get to the story at this rate!”
To whoever may be reading this, I plead that you bear with me. I do not have much experience in the matter of writing, for the only time I can write is in the dead of night by candlelight. For if someone were to tell my mother of my current endeavor she might make me do needlework for the whole day. Then, instead of ink on my fingers they would be stained with blood from pricking myself so much. You see I am horrid with a needle, my stitches are large, uneven, and never coming out the way they are suppose too. My mother, being the proper lady she is, believes that, ‘Women should not stain their pretty fingers with ink. Besides, what good is it to be able to read and write?’
Still, I find ways and people who are willing to help me write, like Brother Gregory, a monk at the monastery connected to our castle.
Presently, I return to the story I am writing about the struggle I faced with my mother’s standard of what a proper lady should be.
Today, I am to meet Earl Tyler of Grimsby. The nature of the meeting I am still unsure of, but my mother, the duchess, insisted I come. She ushers me into my room with the chambermaids to assist me in getting my complicated dress on. It takes an hour to get fully ready.
Earl Tyler arrives and the formal introductions are made. Tyler is fairly handsome, but something in the way he looks at me disturbs me. His eyes are on me the whole time we eat dinner. I feel as if he is sizing me up, or observing his prey. At the end of the meal, my mother stands up to make an announcement, “Earl Tyler of Grimsby has offered to marry my daughter, Kylee of York.” All who are in the room clap, except Tyler and I. Tyler is smiling smugly, while I am flabbergasted. If I must marry him, I don’t want to marry at all. I excuse myself.
I lay in my bed thinking, far into the night. I fall asleep after deciding to go to Brother Gregory and ask him about becoming a nun.
Brother Gregory is overjoyed that I want to become a nun. He informed me that nuns live in walled communities, called convents, and he eagerly directs me to the nearest one.
Before I can enter I must promise to never marry, give away all my personal belongings, and have no contact with people from the outside world; these are just a few of the rules. I am fully intending to become a nun, but the abbess found out that my mother doesn’t approve, and wouldn’t pay for me to enter. She informs me the convent can’t except me without pay.
“You can become a beguine. It is for those women who want to become a nun but can’t afford too,” says the abbess.
I became a beguine. We had gone to help the sick and I have become dreadfully ill. The beguines care for me, but my health hasn’t improved. They bring me back to my mother, and she sends for the best leaches, or doctors, in York.
I am weak for the next month and must stay in bed.
I won’t be able to go back to being a beguine. My only option is to convince my mother that I am a “lady” in my own way, and I can take care of the manor without her help.
I offer a deal with my mother. If I can manage the castle better in a month’s time, she must break my marriage off. If not, I will be a submissive, proper noble wife. My mother accepts. She will do anything to get me to cooperate.
I put everything I have learned from Brother Gregory, from my mother, and from peasant friends, to use.
At night, I taught the servants how to get rid of fleas in our beds. We spread two slices of bread with glue and turpentine. Then lit the candles in the middle of the pieces of bread. The fleas came out and became stuck.
My days are filled with supervising cooks and other servants, arranging large feast for guests, ordering supplies from town, and paying the bills and servants on time.
Today, I am going to listen to the people’s complaints.
A merchant man presented his case, “My Lady, I live here in this town, as a traveling merchant. When I returned from delivering some goods, the guards at the gate made me pay for entry like I was a foreigner. They claimed I don’t live here, even though they know I do. I ask the people around me to vouch for me, but they feared the guards, and would not.”
“What is the name of these greedy guards?” I ask, disgusted that such men work under my father’s name. The merchant perks up, apparently he wasn’t expecting me to do anything about it. How has my mother been dealing with them that they expect nothing to be done?
“Sir Paul and Edward, your Grace.”
I look at my servant and tell him, “Find Sir Paul and Edward at once, make them pay back any money they have stolen from the people and strip them of their rank. Bring them to court for further punishment.” The people waiting in line all look very pleased. My mother hears of my strange dealings and disapproved of them.
“You are costing us much money Kylee, and good workers!” My mother says as she greets me.
“If you consider people like Sir Paul and Edward “good workers,” you are sorely mistaken. They are more of a liability then an asset. Men like them will stab you in the back if there is any profit in doing so. They also turn our people against us with unfair dealings. The people we employ represent our house, and I for one, do not want to be perceived as a thief.” I stomped off before my mother can reply.
I am also to defend our castle.
The house of Leoffin, our house rival with for generations, attacks our manor. I am to defend our land. My campaigning father took half of the house-carls (bodyguards), making it impossible to fend off Leoffin.
The peasants rally together with passion that I have never seen. Leoffin’s men are frightened by their aggressiveness. He flees in humiliating defeat.
I thank the people profusely. My mother acknowledges that she would have been over taken by Leoffin’s attack, and my kind dealings rallied them to my aid.
My mother sends a message to Earl Tyler saying, “Kylee respectfully declines your proposal.” I am glad she did not charge me with the letter, I would not have put it so kindly. I might have even started a war between us.

Four years later, King Henry 1(Beauclerc) awards me with my own land for saving him from a siege.
I live happily ever after, without a prince saving me.

Epilogue: If you were wondering what happened to Sir Paul and Edward, they become guards for Earl Tyler. Tyler recently discover they were not only stealing the peasant’s money, but also his. They are being beheaded tomorrow.