InsaneJournal

What an exhausting day of work. Xavière had just spent the past fourteen hours running from the market to the kitchen of an aristocrat here in England, and her refusal to converse was a prime opportunity for the servants in the kitchen to take advantage of a woman who they assumed to be dumb and deaf, putting her to much more work than she ever intended to do. Though, really, it made no difference, it wasn't as if she had family to visit or a large manor to return to expensively waste her day. Yes, it was better that she work, because though she was being overworked and openly mocked in words she could not understand- though the sneers and leering was enough signal- she was earning some sort of reward. 

This reward wasn't any sort of expense, however, hardly worth an hour's work. Xavière frowned as she looked down at the loaf of bread in her bag, the few coins jingling in her pocket. She had no idea what they were called, or what their value held in comparison to the livre, but she recognized the pieces as being able to trade her maybe another loaf of bread. 

Well, it was nothing to dote over now, at least she would manage for the next week. She would go back to the field, lie in the shabby shelter that was still somehow standing, all three walls. Though she really did destest walking at night, disliking the idea of being mingled in with the street "entertainers"- she held too much pride for such a lifestyle- she had already forgotten her way back to the field. She was hardly familiar with the English territory. And for the better. Stupid British folk.

It was two hours since she had left the manor in the centre of town was she still wandering the streets of England, walking past the French Embassy without giving a second glance. Her curses in French could be easily heard from a couple of feet away, she was tired and dragging her sword and bag behind her after fourteen hours on her feet made nothing easy.