Light, filtered through the canopy bed's sheer curtains woke Sara. She didn't move, still half expected to hear her alarm blaring, or her neighbors clanging around and fighting. She waited for hunger pains to drive her from bed, towards her empty fridge. But there was nothing, just the feeling of a soft bed and the muffled sound of birds chirping coming through the window. She pushed herself up, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. 

Sara stared out the window, watching as birds flew between treetops. The sheets rustled as she slipped out of bed, rubbing against the silk nightgown. She walked across the cool floor, stopping and leaning on the windowsill. 

I'm really in another world, she thought, staring out at the dozens of colorful flowers. Fuck. 

She took a deep breath. With a shake of her head she turned, marching over to the bookshelves in the sitting area. There was no point dwelling on something she couldn't change. If she was really brought here and expected to help, then she should at least see if the late queen left any helpful books.

She thanked whatever god Tithia had that said books were actually in English. Most of the shelves were full of what seemed like nonsense, with titles like 'The Teeth of God' and 'The Throne and The Violet' littering them. She ran her hand along the intricate spines, admiring the beautiful illustrations and engravings. One finally caught her eye, a book towards the top corner of the shelves. It was small, thinner then most of the other books and bound in beat-up blue canvas. Cartoonish griffins and flowers decorated the spine. Sara grabbed it, carefully pulling it down and turning it in her hands.

'A Child's Guide to Magical Creatures' was sprawled out across the front in a curling font. The cover had childish drawings too, little gold rabbits with deer horns and wings. Sara smiled at the charming animals, tracing them with her finger.

The entrance doors creaked open, and Sara jumped at the noise. She turned and was met with an equally surprised Marion. The maid was carrying several covered plates, propping the door open with her foot.

"Miss Sara!" She exclaimed, stepping inside. Sara caught a flash of shiny armor behind her as the door shut. "Awake already I see, good thing I brought your breakfast!" She set plates on the coffee table, smiling widely. 

"Thank you Marion," Sara said. She took the blue book with her as she sat on the couch, setting it in an open corner of the table. There were fewer dishes then last night, but Sara's eyes still darted between them all. Sweet smelling pastries with a strange, apple-like fruit and sugary glaze. Steaming bread slices and cold, thin cuts of cured meat with garnishes on a separate plate. Even a small bowl of some kind of porridge or oatmeal. 

She wasn't exactly hungry - she had eaten more last night then she had in weeks. Worry gnawed at her though, the idea of not eating felt like stones in her stomach.  

She grabbed a pastry. 

Marion fluttered around the room as Sara ate, dancing between making the bed and picking through dresses once again. Sara eyed her skeptically, watching as the other woman pushed aside several particularly gaudy dresses. Finally she seemed to settle on a green one.

"How about this one Miss Sara?" She asked, holding up the dress and smoothing out its skirt. "Not too heavy, so you won't be bothered during our little tour. I think it even compliments your eyes!" 

Sara sat her empty bowl back down, trying to find something diplomatic to say. 'Not too heavy' still looked heavy. The dress was long and had several different layers. The bottom half in particular was thick, as if there was already an underskirt. Pair with the lace embellishments and weird chest cutout, it didn't look comfortable at all. 

"Perfect," she said instead, smiling tightly. Another day, another dead woman's dress, Sara guessed.

"Finish up your breakfast," Marion said, "I'll find a pair of shoes."

Sara's prediction was proven right. The dress was heavy, itchy, and worst of all it was tight. It pinched her right below her breast like a poorly fitting bra, snagging her and rubbing the skin raw despite the fine material. Even the shoes were a nightmare! Short heels that should have in theory worked. She was used to walking in them, since her restaurant required the waitresses to wear them on occasion, but these were stiff, not broken in at all. She could feel the blisters forming as Marion guided her through the wing she was staying in. 

She was so uncomfortable that she barely paid attention to Marion as the maid explained the history of the building. It was important, she knew that. But history had always been her worst subject in school and throwing in a brand new calendar system and foot pain didn't help. So as Marion finished her latest lecture on how and why the third king of Tithia commissioned the stairway handrails for his youngest daughter in 67 AE, Sara took the opportunity to cut in.

"Can we go see the garden?" She asked. 

"Of course!" Marion said, clasping her hands together. "It's just down the hall." Sara stumbled as the maid grabbed her arm, hiding the wince as the dress pinched a particular sore spot and praying that she didn't ruin the dress by bleeding on it. 

Marion dragged her down the hall and through a pair of carved glass doors. Rainbows dance across the abstract cuts, shimmering and shifting almost of their own accord. Sara marveled at the craftsmanship, pausing to touch the beautiful art. She jumped back, nearly tripping over her own feet when they swung outwards without her or Marion even having to push them.

"Amazing right?" Marion said, grinning as the door began to slide shut after a second. "King Henry had them specially made for Queen Lenora. They open and close by themselves, dampen sound, and are nearly impossible to shatter. The enchantments are carved right into the glass." 

Sara hesitated. What had Father Gavric said yesterday? That Tithia's magic was deteriorating? What did that mean for creations like this door? Her hand trembled as she reached out again. She pressed it to one of the panels, fingers splayed out. The deep groves dug into her palm, not painfully, but there was a spark, like the buzz of electricity she had felt around Father Gavric's staff. She could feel the care put into this, the artistry of it. 

Sara didn't want it to fade.

The rainbows in the glass flared as if responding to her wish. Sparks grew into lightning around her hand, arching across the doors. The glass itself glowed, and a powerful wave of energy had Marion stumbling back. Sara herself was frozen, eyes wide and dress billowing as the lightning grew and grew. Her eyes burned, but she couldn't have looked away if she wanted to. Awe swelled in her chest as the colors clashed, as lightning jumped from enchantment to enchantment. Finally it reached its peak, flashing and blinding her before a deafening snap and blast of energy sent her falling. 

"Miss Sara!" Marion cried, but Sara didn't even spare her a glance. She stared up at the door as the glow faded, transfixed.

"I get it," she said, breathless. "I understand now."

Tithia's magic sang.