Thus, I proceeded without a hitch, divided up the
tasks, and we set to work. Hilda and I took cleaning
duties, except for, of course, my lord’s private
chamber behind the library.
A few hours into giving the silver a good, firm
polishing I caught a glimpse out the window. Snow
was just beginning to fall in thick, heavy flakes, muting
the hill top with its cold blanket of white. I stepped
around to the front of the manor. I knew, of course,
how best to prepare for a snowfall (salt the walkways,
salt the meat, use the snow for water, freeze the
vegetables if needed), but I had never actually seen
snow before. It didn’t snow by the sea. It felt soft and
fuzzy and I stuck my tongue out despite my trainings
in good English stoicism.
“Sir? Oh sir. Snow! This is terrible,” Hilda
came rushing to me.
“Never fear. We are heartily prepared as my
training—“
“We’ve no doubt you’ll be fine, with all your
training,” our chef said. “But we’ve got to head back
before it becomes too thick to move around. I’ve left
you stew and plenty of it; preserves; bread.”
“And I’ve a little one at home. Snow around
here isn’t for pretty. We could be stuck here for days
and getting down the hill will only get harder,” our
hawkish maid chimed in. I didn’t like her tone.
“Yes, yes of course you may go early today. I
shall ask you each to take some pinches of salt for the
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