Even various religious orders once served as foundational production units, becoming the backbone of productivity in the Dark Millennium Era.
Everyone here participates in labor together, shares risks, and shares benefits.
It is said that the upper ranks of the Church prohibited clergy from marrying, not for the sake of purity of faith, but simply to prevent property distribution due to marriage.
It was thanks to celibacy that the wealth accumulated by the Church could be concentrated rather than dispersed, passed down from generation to generation without vanishing.
Squeak! Squeak!...
In the courtyard, there are dozens of won, each with a spinning machine in front of them, turning processed flax fibers into strands of yarn.
Although they've lived here for more than a year and their spinning skills are quite adept, they are limited by outdated tools, capable of spinning only one thread at a ti.
There's still a significant distance before the spinning machine reform.
Margaret is already 42 years old this year, but she has maintained herself excellently, looking much younger than her actual age.
Even when working with her own hands, a sense of grandeur and elegance emanates from her bones.
Yet here, completely isolated from the outside world, her understanding of the situation remains at the Lancaster Family's downfall, with only her nephew Byron narrowly escaping as a wanted criminal, Son of the Devil.
Then she was locked in the monastery.
Her eyes inevitably reveal a grayness, a sorrow greater than a dead heart, more intense than that of Edward's forr fiancée Anne Neville.
After all, the latter rely lost her fiancé, but the forr lost her husband, son, clan, and everything.
If she didn't know that her nephew Byron, whom she raised from childhood and whose affection is no less than that of a biological son, was still alive, maintaining the last attachnt and anchoring, she would probably have gone mad by now.
In a distracted state, she naturally couldn't do the work well, and accidentally broke the flax thread in her hands.
"Ah!"
Margaret then returned to her senses, panic-stricken, she toppled the spinning machine, and turned to see an old nun with a sour expression hurriedly advancing towards her.
Seeing her face, Margaret imdiately felt a faint pain in her spine, realizing that it was a phantom pain reflexively generated from having been whipped before.
In fact, although the won of Lancaster have more freedom than those prisoners in the underworld prison, their status is essentially the sa.
Like those prisoners, they constantly wear Law-Breaking Shackles, unable to use any extraordinary power, and once a mistake is made, various corporal punishnts follow.
The Abbess managing them is particularly harsh, scolding and whipping them for every minor mistake.
Though Margaret once had a noble status, now she is rely an ordinary prisoner, not only receiving no preferential treatnt but can also clearly feel that she is being deliberately targeted by the other.
Corporal punishnt and humiliation have beco routine.
Over the past year, even just the number of beatings has beco too nurous to count.
Almost forming a conditioned reflex, as soon as she makes a mistake, she imdiately feels a pain behind her.
Margaret rembers the ti clearly, it has been a week since her last punishnt.
The one-week interval was not because she didn't make mistakes, but because the other party left the monastery for a family visit, just returning today.
"I must live!
No matter how difficult it is, I must go on living, I can't know Byron's current situation, alone, how he is getting by, I can't rest in peace even if I die."
Margaret sowhat shafully clenched her fists, feeling that she would inevitably suffer another round of corporal punishnt this ti.
Just about to instinctively shrink her neck, ready for a beating, the subsequent developnt greatly surprised her.
That harsh Abbess walked to her side, but did not raise the whip to hit her as usual.
Instead, she personally helped her upright the spinning machine, smiling obsequiously, sowhat flattering, she said:
"Your Majesty the Queen, are your hands injured?
With your status, how can you do such rough work? Look, it's all my fault, your hands have beco rough.
Why don't I recomnd you and a few Lancaster Family ladies to manage the library?
Newspapers are delivered there daily, if you work in the library, you should be able to see the outside news every day."
Margaret, who at least assisted her husband in managing a country, was neither flattered by the other party's change nor surprised, but instead beca more wary.
Hightins Proverb: "The fox may turn gray, but never good."
Her heart could not help but stir.
"Could it be that during the week the other party was away, sothing happened outside?!"
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