May 30

Upon this morning, Sir Almeric de Brattleby, recently returned from the campaigns in Picardy, stood witness as the master glazier Simon of Stamford fitted the final leaded pane into the Great Solar’s oriel. The glass, a vibrant tapestry of sapphire and cinnabar, depicted the Brattleby eagle soaring above the fens of Lincolnshire. Lady Cecily de Brattleby insisted that the light falling through the heraldry should bless the family table, ensuring that even in the dimmest winter, the lineage's honor would remain illuminated by the sun's passage.

The parish priest, Father Thomas, sprinkled hyssop-scented water upon the stone mullions while the household servants knelt in the rushes. Sir Almeric noted in his ledger that the cost of the French cobalt alone had nearly bankrupted the midsummer harvest, yet as the noon sun ignited the crest, his pride surpassed his penury. This window would survive three sieges and a fire, remaining to this day the jewel of the manor’s west wing, casting ghosts of blue and gold across the floorboards every May-tide.

When a messenger bearing the King’s seal approaches the outer gates of Brattleby, the protocol of the 'Open Hand' must be observed without fail. The Gate-warden is strictly forbidden from demanding a toll, but must instead strike the iron gong thrice to alert the Seneschal. The envoy is to be met at the inner portcullis by the Baron or his eldest son, regardless of the hour or the weather, for to delay a royal word is to offer an affront to the Throne itself.

Once dismounted, the envoy should be offered a silver stirrup-cup of spiced claret before business is broached. It is the height of discourtesy to request the letters before the guest has been seated in the Presence Chamber. If the envoy be of knightly rank, a basin of lavender-scented water and a fresh linen towel must be provided by the head page. Only after these comforts are rendered may the wax be broken and the King’s will be read aloud to the assembled court.

First, the pike must be gutted and cleaned with great care, leaving the head intact to preserve the dignity of the fish. Poach the flesh gently in a broth of verjuice and river water, seasoned heavily with mace and the zest of dried oranges if available. Once the flesh is firm, it is removed and flaked, then pressed into a decorative ceramic mold shaped like a hunting hound or a crest.

The remaining broth is then strained through a fine woolen cloth and enriched with saffron until it glows like molten gold. Whisk in the egg whites to draw out all impurities, leaving a liquid clear as a summer stream. Pour this jelly over the fish and set it in the cool depths of the buttery overnight. Serve it cold to visiting dignitaries, garnished with the sharp wood sorrel to cut the richness of the gelatine.