They probably wouldn't have, if not for Belinda

"What's that over there?" Some in the mob yells as Greta desperately tries to pull her half-sister away.

"Get 'em!" Another voice shouts, making the two now-terrified women tremble.

"What's happening?" The shaking Belinda asks. "I... I can't see."

"The peasants are revolting," Greta yells. "Run!"

The two women beat feat as fast as they can, which... is not very fast at all. Belinda is a marshmallow of a woman who has always moved at her own pace while Greta, despite her years as a servant, is not much faster.

Soon the two are wheezing and gasping for air as the sweat pours down their bodies as a dozen of the queen's relatively fit, if malnourished, subjects give chase.

"I... I can't go on," Belinda whimpers. "Carry me."

Greta just groans in frustration as the naked, spoiled and despoiled queen plops her fat bare butt on the ground.