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Dear Peter

I am not much of a writer, I’ve never enjoyed it at all. But ever since my husband Peter died, I have been extremely lonely. Sure I have our only surviving son, Edgar, to keep me company but the companionship of a 13 year old is not extremely comforting to a mourning widow. Unlike many women I know, my husband was actually my best friend, I am very fortunate that way. So I decided to start this diary and write it as if I were writing to my deceased beloved, Peter. I feel quite silly doing this but there is something so comforting about writing to him as if he is only off on a voyage or journey instead of gone from me for the rest of my days.

Dear Peter,
As you know, you were recently commissioned to build suits of strong and lovely armor for His Majesty and His Majesty’s Knights, which is a job I must now undertake. Oh Peter, I wish you were here to console me, because now that you are gone I realize the great implications that this job could have! Now I must complete the task by myself and hope that the King doesn’t scoff at the idea of himself and his men wearing armor created by a woman! I was of course extremely excited for you when you were offered the task, but I never anticipated you leaving me before it was even close to being completed! What worries me is not that I can’t do the job, you know as well as I do that I have enough experience as an armoress to do an exceptional job, I am very skilled at the intricate designs that are cherished in armor, but I fear if the king knows that a woman is creating his armor he will judge it much more harshly and will be extremely critical and disapproving of my work. I fear that he will refuse to pay for the armor claiming that it is not satisfactory. I am considering letting our son take credit for any armor made, and I would do that if he were not only 13, at that age a woman has more credibility as an armoress than he does. I miss you but I must go now, I will be sure to write you again tomorrow.






Love your Armoress,







Matild
Dear Peter,
Today I decided to enlist our son to help with the King’s large order of armor. He’s been your apprentice since he was 10, but you and I both know that 3 years of experience isn’t much when it comes to adding the artistic touches that a king’s armor requires. Therefore I will be the only one adding the intricate wording and depictions, if this order goes well, we will be financially secure for many years to come, but I am afraid to think about what might happen if we do not fit the King’s high standards. We may never be able to get another job in the armory business ever again. I have no idea what I would do if I couldn’t continue your lucrative business of creating armor! Why did you have to perish of that Cursed Black Death and in the middle of establishing your biggest and wealthiest client too? I wish you were still here, or maybe if you had stuck around to fulfill this order, our family business would be well enough established that I would not have to worry about securing work again! It would just come on its own because our armor would be so well known and recognized around the land for its wonderful craftsmanship, beauty, and durability during warfare. I have always had faith in our family’s skills as armorers but ever since your death my confidence in me and our son’s abilities has dissipated. There is someone at the door to the shop, I must go and see what they want, I will soon be back to confide in you.





Love Yours Truly,





Matild
Dear Peter,
Lawrence was at the door wondering how I was faring since your death. I fear that he may be stopping by often in an attempt to rid me of my widow status. He is such nuisance! Even when he was alive I could see that he had is eye on me and our business! It’s so infuriating the nerve that man has! And the fact that he would think for a second I would even consider marrying him is insulting! I will probably never marry again, Peter, and I will be fine with it because I will never again be able to find a man as decent as you. Besides most men will only want to marry me so that they can take over our lucrative armory business and most likely run it to the ground! Any man I would marry would probably already have sons so as soon as they were old enough they would inherit the business instead of our son! And I refuse to do that to Seth! First he loses his father and now he has all of these greedy money grubbers coming in and trying to steal his lively hood! It’s absolutely ridiculous! This whole circumstance just makes me all that more determined to turn Seth into the best known and most skilled armorer in the land! Someone is at the door again Peter, I hope it is not Lawrence again! But alas I must go I shall write you again soon!







Yours Truly,







Matild
Dear Peter,
I went to go see who could be knocking at the door to find that it is one of the king’s pages coming to see about how his highness’s armor was coming along! When I answered the door he asked to speak to the man of the house! I was baffled at what I was to say to this on account of the fact that I am hoping to avoid letting the King know of your death until after I have presented him with the armor. But I will not dare lie to one of the messenger’s of the King so I simply told him that you were unavailable but I or my son could just as easily answer any of his questions. The page wanted us to show him what progress had been made on the armor, the King’s especially, and he gave us a request from his Highness for a very specific and extremely difficult engraving on the King’s armor in particular. The page was impressed with what he assumed to be your craftsmanship and I assured him that the armor would be done on schedule along with the designs. When I saw the page at the door I immediately wished my eyes were tricking me but now I am glad that he came because his approval of the handiwork of me and my son settles my nervous stomach a bit. I’m sure this sense of calm is only temporary but I am still glad that it came at all. It is getting late now and the sun is setting so I can no longer see what I am trying to say to you so I will leave you with these last words. Goodnight Peter I can hardly wait for the day when I will see your welcoming smile again.






Love Yours Always,






Matild



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