Euphemistically Yours

The next morning, Constance shook me awake while it was still dark. “Husband! Soon it will be twilight!”

I gave a nod to demonstrate that I was awake and raised a hand to wave her away. She knew I wouldn’t fall back asleep, so she moved off to begin her own work for the day. I have no idea how she did it every morning. On the other hand, in the evening, when her head hit the pillow, she was already asleep.

In short order, I had both legs out of bed, and then my clothes on. Constance had laid them out for me to speed things up. When had she done that? Probably while I was still sleeping. Regardless, I didn’t have time to think about it.

As I walked into the kitchen, Constance unbarred the back door to let our household servants in. These were handpicked wives of my serfs, chosen for their willingness to work and their various skills. While their husbands and sons worked the fields, these women kept our kitchen and house in order.

They had to be here early to bake the day’s bread. It took time, so you had to start before sunrise. By the time the children were up, breakfast would already be on the table.

Surprised to see me, the servants each took their time to kneel with their heads on the floor before beginning work. I was curious which ones would handle which task, but Constance gestured to me silently, making it clear that my presence was interfering with their duties.

The kitchen door served as the quickest path from our house to the paddock. Two of my serfs, both young men, were on guard at the stables with staves close at hand. These served as my lookouts, ready to raise an alarm if anything happened during the night. As I approached, they too knelt with their heads to the ground.

“I’ll be taking over here, so you are done for tonight - I’ll count your job as complete. If Grit asks, you may say that I let you go free early.”

The two gave no reply, only a relieved smile as they headed back to their houses earlier than expected. The young men among my serfs had various jobs like this on a rotation. I wasn’t even sure how they decided who would be here each night. All that was decided by the headmen. I would only need to inquire if a problem arose.

Honey was already awake when I entered into the dimly lit interior, as well as our two mules. I suppose she’d heard my voice outside. “Good morning, Honey! You know that you’re my first love! We’re going to have a busy day today, so I’m letting you and your friends out into the paddock early.”

Naturally, she snorted at my flattery, but she also pressed up against her door, ready to greet the morning outside. “But before that, I’ve brought you a treat! How does that sound, sweety? I realize I haven’t had much time for you lately, but here’s an apple, your favorite! I hope you’ll forgive me?”

She rolled her eyes, but snatched it out of my hand without complaint. In the meantime, both of our mules chuffed at me. I never treated them this way, did I? Oh well... too bad for them. Life isn’t fair. One example being the vast difference in value between a warhorse and a mule.

Once I’d let them all loose to run outside, I collected a few important items from cabinets, then headed back across the yard and inside again through the kitchens. On my way through, I snagged a piece of flatbread that was cooking off the top of our stove. It was still hot and doughy, so I had to juggle it between my hands as I made my way to our storage room.

This chamber served double duty as our larder. It was built on the shady north side of the house to keep it cool. Furthermore, the floor and shelving against the outside wall consisted of slate blocks to help regulate the temperature. Vegetables from autumn had to last all the way through the coming winter.

Since the harvest would be here soon, our reserves were nearly empty. That made my job easier. In a few weeks, this room would be packed so full, squeezing in to search would be difficult.

In contrast to our larder shelves, the shelves on the opposing inner wall were rough wood, with packages and old tools wrapped in cloth or simply pressed together in bunches. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for, so I shook the dust off, wrapped it back up, and then headed in to breakfast.

When I arrived at the table, I had a big grin. By this time, Grit, seated beside me, had already checked the stables and seen that I’d beaten him there for his morning chores. The girls were lined up on the other side of the table, with Swift between Eu and Progress to serve as a buffer against violence.

As expected, Eu was wearing her peasant outfit again, complete with pants and her sword. In response, Progress had her nose in the air, refusing to even look in that direction. Grit and Swift were wisely keeping their silence. Neither one was eager to set off another argument.

Once Constance arrived and settled into her seat, we could begin. After Grit said our morning-meal blessing, our hands reached for the food. The day had officially begun.

“Don’t eat the sweetcakes first!” complained Progress.

“Mmph!” replied Eu, with her mouth already full.

In response, Progress grabbed her own sweetcake and put it onto her plate, probably concerned that she wouldn’t get one otherwise.

There was a short pause, then simultaneously Swift, Grit, Constance, and even me all reached out to grab our own as well. It was embarrassingly greedy of us, but it was simple logic. If there were no sweetcakes left, then none could be stolen.

“You took them ALL!” whined Eu, staring at the empty plate.

“Yes, yes we did…” I agreed.

“YOU are a sweetcake!”

“Is that… an insult?” I laughed at her.

“YES!”

“I see… you win. I just can’t compete with you and your clever wit.”

"Wit? I am NOT Wit!" She circled her fingers under each eye to symbolize his mustache, then stuck out her tongue.

"You AREN'T Master Wit? But, you are so witty!"

Grit interrupted our descent into sarcasm by pointing out the cloth-wrapped package I’d laid onto the table. “Father, what is that for?”

“This?” I gave my best mysterious smile. “This is a surprise for later.”

Now all eyes at the table were riveted onto the bundle beside my plate.

“Is it a… sweetcake?” asked Swift, still focused on prior events.

“Maybe…”

“It’s NOT a sweetcake!” Progress objected. “Who would wrap a sweetcake in nettle cloth like that? Besides, it’s too lumpy, and thick, and wide. It’s probably a…”

“Probably a … what? What is it?” Swift pestered her sister.

“I’m not telling. I know what it is, but I’m not going to tell you. Father said it’s a surprise.”

“You … you don’t actually know!”

“You’ll see!” replied Progress as she tilted her nose upwards.

“Mother obviously knows what it is,” pointed out Grit, who had noticed her calm demeanor.

All eyes shifted to Constance, so she paused in her eating. “Yes, I know what it is.”

“Tell me!” Swift was too young to appreciate mysteries.

Constance gave her a smile. “I’m not going to ruin it. You’ll have to wait for your father. It’s his surprise.”

Swift leaned over the table to whisper in my direction. “You can tell me! I won’t tell anyone else!”

All of us could still hear her, but she didn’t seem to realize that. I laughed and pointed at the food left on the table. “I can’t tell anyone until you’re all done with your breakfast.”

With that, all four children turned their attention back to their plates.

“Hey!” Progress cried out. “What happened to my sweetcake?”

“Mmph!” replied Eu with her mouth full.