Rosie blinked several times in confusion as she tried to understand where she was and what was happening. From the stone walls and the fine furnishings in the room, she assumed that she was in a great manor somewhere but it clearly wasn't her home in Hurel Village.
There was a buxom, blonde serving woman giving her a reassuring look even though she looked like she'd just come in from a hard day of labor in the castle gardens. Her tunic still bore the stains of dirt and grasses and the pouches that hung from a belt around her trim waist bulged with whatever odds and ends she needed for her work.
Most concerning of all, however, was the thin rivulet of blood that trailed from the corner of her lip, as if she'd recently been struck and hadn't been allowed to clean herself up after the blow landed.
