The maiden turned the latch of the cottage door, where the householder's name was prominently carved: The House of Bishop. This cottage stood a mere two leagues from the main city of Caslette, nestled in a village surrounded by parched, withered grasslands stretched between the city road and the dense, shadowed forest.
Marilyn stepped inside, exhaling a soft sigh to soothe her exhaustion. Suddenly—
CRACK! A heavy wooden log struck her full in the abdomen, causing her to collapse onto the teak floor. Gasping for air, she looked up to meet the gaze of a young woman with short, frizzy, blood-brown hair. The maiden sneered arrogantly down at Marilyn, letting out a haughty, triumphant laugh.
"Hehaha! Oh, Mary, you truly take the cake! After talking so big about coming home early... what a deceitful liar you turn out to be!" The maiden raised the wooden branch, brandishing it as if to strike a second blow, until Marilyn raised her hands to plead.
"F-Forgive me... I-I only went to pray at the Church of Adtoris! Please, I beg you, do not punish me!!"
"Pray?! Have you not forsaken your vows as a nun long ago?! Where are the things I asked you to bring, hm?!"
"T-The things... Oh! The books, is that it? I-I could scarcely... remember. But I—"
SLAP!! Jezibella struck her across the face with her left hand, grabbing Mary by the hair and slamming her head coarsely against the wooden floor.
"Please! i beg you~" Mary cried out in pain.
"I'll! (Thud!) beat! (Thud!) the mud! (Thud!) right into your bloody skull! (Thud!) If there is a next time, I'll give you far worse than this! What are you dawdling for?! Clean the house! I'll not have that annoying old hag preach at me this evening!" Jezibel shoved the broom into Mary's hands, leaving her to handle the chores alone.
Jezibel sat down in a chair, picking up a romance novel to pass the time. Hearing the harsh command, Mary pulled herself up and headed into the kitchen to sweep and tidy the house.
By dusk, a hunchbacked old woman returned home, carrying a basket filled with various vegetables and herbs. "Oh my, the house is so clean!" she praised Jezibella, admiring the spotless floor, while Mary stood quietly to welcome the matriarch home.
"Are you complimenting me, Grandmother?!" Jezibel feigned pride, claiming the hard work as her own.
"Oh! Did you do all this yourself?" Mrs. Bishop asked.
"Indeed~ Mary returned home late and didn't even buy the things she was supposed to. Hmph! How disappointing." Jezibel spat out her accusations, yet Mary merely bowed her head to take the blame in silence.
"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Bishop. Next time, I shall cause no further trouble."
Mrs. Bishop gave a slow nod in response to her apology. "Just see to it that you don't grow lazy when my back is turned, Mary."
"As for me, I've changed my ways! Haha! What's more, I'm even courting a fine young blacksmith, Grandmother," Jezibel boasted, praising her own virtues.
After finishing their humble evening meal, it was time to retire. Mary sat upon a small bed in her cramped bedchamber, a room thick with dust and tiny scurrying insects. Dusty, untouched books were piled high upon the shelves, looking far too grim to handle.
The maiden pushed open the wooden window to count the starlight beside the moon before the thick clouds rolled in to veil them once more. As the shutters parted, a rancid, putrid stench blasted into her nostrils. Mary leaned out the window, spotting an old man hauling a wooden cart. Looking closer, her heart sank—the cart was piled high with the lifeless corpses of pestilence victims, swarming with black flies. The old man trudged toward the dark forest, bound for the cemetery outside the walls of Caslette.
And right behind the cart of the dead, she caught sight of a plague doctor silently following in its wake.