The carriage departs
the courtyard. Fiona is considerably surprised to find that
everything around her begins to melt away. One moment she is in a
carriage, the next she's sat on the floor of a simple medieval
kitchen. A fire is slowly dying in a hearth in front of her. She
realises immediately her clothes have changed too. Where once there
was a fancy gown, now there are tattered ash smudged rags. There's
battered sandals on her feet, and her hair is tied with a dish cloth.
“Okay,” she says to
herself, looking for her companions. “That's quite a... change.”
Somewhere above her a
door bangs open and a shrill voice cries out. “Girl? Where are
you when a lady needs a drink? Bring wine at once, you wretched
hideous girl.”
“And bread,” comes
a second, “And mutton.”
