The flame of the torch flickered in the air as I made my way to the great kitchen to light the fires. A golden light wavered about the stone walls and wooden floor, I stopped when when I heard footsteps that did not quite meet the beat of mine own. I looked about, right into the deep darkness of the passage I had just walked. There was naught to be seen.
 I carried on with my journey, a long one it is, especially when I am tired, from the very top of the palace, where I sleep, to the very bottom. A scuff on the floor caused me to stop once again. I turned myself round, “Good day?” i said t the darkness. Again, there was naught.
 I resumed to my journey, the flame quavering for my hand was shaking. I heard a drum, a drum that had a fast beat. A drum that was my heart. I sang, with a quiet, quivering voice, a song, one of my favoured. One that would calm myself:

“The maiden came
When I was in my mother’s bower;
I had all that I would.
The bailey beareth the bell away;
The lily, the rose, the rose I lay.

The silver is white, red is the gold;
The robes, they lay in fold.
The bailey beareth the lull away;
The lily, the rose, the rose I lay.

And thro’ the glass window shines the sun.
How should I love, and I so young?
The bailey beareth the lull away;
The lily, the rose, the rose I lay.”

 At last, I had made it to the kitchen. I went straight to the enormous hearth and lay kindling in a mouns, as i did so, a slight breeze whistled past me left cheek. I turned to see what cause it. There, on the long board of the kitchen, stood a dark figure. I screamed and promptly dropped the torch which snuffed itself as it fell onto the flagstone floor.
 “Now look at what thou hast made me do. Thou art a fool!” I spat. The dark figure lept off the board and landed onto the floor light-footedly, before bowing and saying,
 “Thou art correct maid, for that is what I am.” The reply had come from a fellow with a young, high – pitched voice that Fools use. With that, the figure lept across the kitchen and out of the door.
 At last. I thought. But how wrong, or glad, was I when he returned with a blazing torch, held at arms length so all I saw was the yellow and red edges of his jester suit. I gasped as he lept back across the chamber to stand afore me once again.
 “Impressive, nay?” he said. I did not reply. I snatched the torch from his hand, the trailing flame illuminating our young faces for an instant. “Thou dost weep, maid.”
 “I do not” I lied, using the back of my hand to blot away my tears, fresh and old. “Go ye, for if I do not light these fires soon, i am sure of being smote. Go!”

 I did not see the Fool the rest of the day, just as well for I might have smote him. Mayhap I scared him off. The following even I was cutting up roots and worts for a dish of pottage I was making for supper. Each maid and fellow within the kitchen had been allocated a dish, some had two to make.
 The door of the kitchen opened. One or two looked up, the others too engrossed in making their dish.
 “Good day Finn!” my friend, who was working close to the door, cried out. Her loud voice caused me to look up,
 “Good day!” The Fool replied. I was glad I was far away. They then spoke, in hushed voices, of gossip that they had. I could see that they had been friends for many a year. I was caught out as Finn looked at me from down the board, my cheeks reddened and I quickly averted my gaze back to my work.
 “Well, anyhow,” Finn started up again, “the main reason I came within the kitchen was to -” prate about me no doubt. My thoughts took over. “- ask if thou hast a meagre dish of food that I and the tumblers may share, for we are famished!” My friend turned to the board behind her and uncovered a bowl and gave it to Finn. “Moise! My favoured dish of them all! Thank thee! Fare well sweet maid.” And with that, he disappeared.

 I sat myself down at the fire side in the kitchen. Supper had been served, the dishes cleared and washed. Those who labour in the kitchen had gone off to make leisure or had returned to their cotts and their families that awaited their return.
 My friend Edith entered through the door, I smiled in greeting, although it was unlikely she would have seen for it was fairly dark now.
 “Why art thou sitting alone, Ellen?” Edith stood, leaning over me.
 “I have naught in which to do.”
 “Well, why not join me on the gallery? We can watch those within the great hall.”
 “I was thinking of repairing to bed.”
 “Oh Ellen! Thou art too innocent. Come join me, thou wilt love what thou shalt see.” She held out a hand which I could not refuse.  
 I was taken up a flight of stairs and along the passageway a little until we came to an elaborate curtain. Edith pulled it to one side and let me through. My mouth dropped open; the revels that I saw within the great hall were wondrous! And the folk, and oh, the clothes! They were so fine indeed!
 “Ellen, keep back from the balustrade, thou must not be seen!” We sat ourselves down and peeped through the stone balustrade. “Oh, look at Finn! Is he not wondrous?”
 “Aye, he is.” I sighed.
 “Thou dost not seem content, why?”
 “I like not of Finn”
 “Oh?”
 “He played a horrid trick on me upon the yester morn”

 Much to my dismay, Finn joined Edith and I on the gallery after his much loved performance. Much loved by all, but me. I sat with my knees under my chin as I continued staring at the revels whilst Edith and Finn conversed as if they were a married couple.
 “I must repair to the jakes” Edith said looking and Finn and I in turn,
 “Well enough” I replied, not taking my eyes away from the glow in the great hall.
“Go ye!” cried Finn, “I wish not for a puddle upon the floor!” Edith giggled as she left the gallery. Edith left us in silence, awkward as it was, I was comfortable with it.
“Thou dost seem awfully mute, mayhap I could cheer thou up?” suggested Finn, who stood up and started hoping from foot to foot, his bells jingling with every movement, as he juggled. It did not work.
“I wish not to see your foolishness” I said standing up and brushing down my kirtle, “your acts do not cheer up all folk.” I went to leave the gallery but a hand fell upon mine arm.
“I cry thee mercy” Finn whispered, as if any folk would hear us. A great roar of cheer came from within the hall below us. I turned my head and mine eyes fell upon Finn’s own sympathetic ones, but my cold heart, full of hatred, did not fall for it. “Good night, Finn.”

Similar events upon the gallery happened for the rest of the month and into the next. Finn and I would not prate to each other, or at least a few mumbled words. Methinks that Edith hast not realised the hatred between myself and the Fool. She is in awe of him, every night she would sit and stare at him in the great hall below us whilst I stared at the beauteous gowns the ladies were wearing that night. After Finn finishes his jests, he would always join us upon the gallery and he and Edith would always end up in deep conversation. Their prating would go on for some time, I have never seen them end a conversation for I am always far too tired to stay up and so repair to bed, Edith joining me some hours later.

November soon became December and still Finn and I were not friends. The weather had changed dramatically, there had not been any warm Autumnal days for at least a week and December was a sharp, bitter chill. I lifted my brown coat from one of the hooks within the kitchen and put it on; I had to go unto the gardens to get some herbs.
As I opened the door of the warm, glowing kitchen, cold air smote me upon the face. I shut the door hastily, for I would make many folk angry for letting out the heat. I pulled at my coat, trying to wrap it around me further for it was huge upon my small body. Each breath I made could be seen afore mine eyes. I started to make my way unto the garden, the low fog, still hanging in the air, had not lifted for several days. I started to sing to keep myself company:

“Lollay, lollay, little child
Why wepestou so sore
Nedes mostou wepe
It was iyarked thee yore
Ever to lib in sorrow
And sich and mourne evere
As thine eldren did er this
Whil hi alives were

Lollay, lollay little child
Child, lollay, lullow
You have come into
An alien world”

My hands emerged from my long coat sleeves; the heat escaped my fingers and soon my entire hand was cold. I took my blade from its sheath and cut a few springs of rosemary. There was not much else to be had; the garden is awfully desolate and miserable looking at this time of year.
All of a sudden I heard shouts coming from the other end of the garden, somewhere near the pond. I approached, but kept a goodly distance. There were many fellows standing about, one half dressed and wrapped up in a blanket looking somewhat chilled. The others, mayhap three or four of them, seemed fully clothed. “How is that kitchen maid of yours, Finn?” the fellow in the blanket asked. Finn? I thought to myself, but Finn is not there!
“She is NOT my kitchen maid!” Finn retorted in an ill-manner. That IS Finn. That is his voice. He just is not wearing his jester suit. There was yet another uproar from the fellows. “I like her not! She is stubborn, melancholic and, worst of all, like unto an insects bite upon the arse: annoying and irritating!”  My mouth fell open. The fellows burst into laughter and the one in the blanket gave Finn a friendly push. “I do not jest, fellows! I say it in good earnest!” Finn stormed away from the crowd and was heading in my direction. He could not see me now, for he would know I listened to their conversation. I picked up my skirts and ran all the way back to the kitchen. 
I burst through the kitchen door, panting like a mutt and red in the face – at least I was warm now. No folk noticed my presence, which was just as well – they would not question me. I hung up my coat and took my place next to Edith at the long kitchen board. “I need to prate to thee, Edith” I said out of breath, pulling at the rosemary stalks.
“Later Ellen, later. I am busy at present.”
“But it is urgent, Edith!”
“Not as urgent as getting this food ready for dinner.” I paused for a few moments, Edith clearly did not understand. I watched her as she carried on cutting various roots and worts and placing them into a pot. I took Edith by the shoulders and shook her a little,
“I need to prate to thee NOW, Edith!” I spat, so that no one would notice. Edith pulled me to one side where she let me explain what I heard within the garden.
“He said that about me?” Edith asked,
“Aye, loud and clear.” I replied,
“But…” Edith trailed off, “Never mind, I shall prate with him anon.”