Nicole de Mylcandonai sat in her study, quill in one hand, the other was bandaged. She brought the quill to parchment and started to write. The letters were rough and almost illegible. Nicole crumpled the sheet and drew out a fresh one. She picked up the quill in her bandaged hand and started to write, again. Nicole cried out in pain as she dropped the quill. She held her bandaged hand gingerly. A servant burst into the room. "Is everything okay, m'lady?" the servant asked. "Yes," Nicole said with a sigh. "My wrist still hurts. But, I'm fine." Nicole flexed and unflexed the fingers on her bandaged hand. "Is there anything I can get for you?" "Something to drink would be excellent, thank you," Nicole said with a smile. The servant left the room. Nicole started to write again with her unbandaged hand. The letters were very scribbly, but this time a little more legible. The servant returned with a pitcher and a glass. "A pity about yer hand," the servant said, pouring Nicole a glass of lemonade. "Yes," Nicole said as she sipped the lemonade. "But, I guess that is the price of having too much of a good time. It really doesn't bother me, unless I want to write a letter. Everything turns out a big mess as soon as I pick up the quill." "If it is okay, I know how to spell. You could tell me what you want to say, I could writ it down, and you can seal it. A very cunning plan if I say so meself," the servant said, beaming. "That sounds great," Nicole said. She handed the servant a quill and some parchment. The servant licked the tip of the quill and dipped it in some ink. Nicole began to dictate her letter. The servant wrote quickly (if a little shoddily). When she had finshed the letter, Nicole thanked the servant. "Thank you very much, Phillipe. I will be sure to tell your master, Diego, how great you have been helping me while I have this sprained wrist." "My pleasure, mum," Phillipe said as he scribbled down the closing of the letter. "Just one question for you: is 'Nicole' spelled with one or two h's?"
