Slow down at the castle. Things to straighten in her head. And she knows it's not a castle. But that's what they've always said. Shaded by the tower. As she clambers to her seat. With the ash of last night's party. Clinging grimly to her feet. Not for the first time. She's made her bed. Now she leaves that all behind. And turns her mind to playful things instead. Days spent making stories. For the faces that pass by. From the lonely tea shop owner. To the misbehaving wife. Now they're growing ever wilder. As the people start to go. Now she dreams that there's assassins. Hiding in the woods below. Not for the first time. She's made her bed. Now she leaves that all behind. And turns her mind to playful things instead. And she knows this must end. As the long shadows start to blend. She must be on her way