From the cook

A long row of shelves stretched down the middle of the room, walls filled with ovens, stoves and cooking benches. There were four doors, one near every corner of the room. Amy runs over to Helen, holding a large plate, filled with fruit tart, hands it to her, then scuttles away to her previous assignment. The girl stands there awkwardly, holding the tarts, unsure what to do with them.

“Well, don’t just stand there, dove!” The woman shouts, then runs over and grabs her shoulders, pushing her forward and through one of the doors.

A small dining room greets her, fireplace to one side, maps covering these walls as well. The sun had just set, and several candles were lighting the room. The tall man was sitting in a large leather armchair, slowly enjoying his dinner. Several plates and bowls were on the table, filled with half eaten food and fruit. Two girls were kneeling to each of his sides, holding up plates of nuts and what seemed like an assortment of cheese. The table was the most interesting piece of furniture in the room. The tabletop was made of thin polished wood and it was supported by the backs of four naked women, on their hands and knees.