She'd put it with the rest.

Huh.

Briar didn't need any more confirmation than that. This really was a regular occurrence, then? Not just a "mistake" to be wiped clean from the slate?

She placed the rest of it into the bucket (what could fit in there anyway), hands wet with blood. Before she reached for the handle, she wiped her fingers dry on her apron, and then grabbed the bucket and handed it over. Much as she figured the mistress was familiar with getting her hands bloody, she didn't have to contribute to that herself.

Turning back to the tub, Briar turned on the water.

"Me?" she asked, confused by the question. Why would she care what Briar wanted for dinner? She'd never even thought about that.

"Anything is alright by me, miss, I- ...something with bread rolls?"