Heather

I open the door with my usual, warm smile, gasping a little as I see you. I bow at once, delicately like a lady would, holding the deferential pose like a common wench should. "Good day, milord! I am humbled by your presence. How may I serve you? Are you looking for my husband?" There are dozens of possible reasons for your visit, from simple manorial affairs like corvée or the settlement of disputes, to grave decisions about life and death. Cruel or kind, you are my lord, and your word is law.