Marzipan carefully got to her feet, continually checking the back of her head with her hand. There was blood yes, and a lot of it, but it was a head wound. Those tended to bleed a lot more than they warranted most times... at least she thought so. Her mind felt muzzily, and although she'd made her way into a standing position the room still bucked and swayed around her and she staggered to the nearest piece of furniture to brace herself against... the couch where the woman sat. 

Had sat, rather, as she seemed to have gotten ahold of herself. Which Marzi was very grateful for, as the woman had been caught up in the throws of the most intelligent wailing and it had been rather unbecoming of a woman of her supposed stature. She was high class, Marzipan could tell that much, and whether she was a princess or a lady she should behave like it... Even more so if she was a Queen like she said she was.    

But mostly she was grateful that she'd stopped making that awful racket as her head was pounding hard enough to make her nauseous. It was hard enough to focus on what everyone was saying and staying upright at the same time. 

Marzipan had just opened her mouth to introduce herself, only to yelp and flinch away as the lady, Queen, lept upon a man with a roar of furious rage, an arrow flying over her head as she ducked and crouched below the arm of the chair. 

The lady's mercurial nature was very unsettling, and everyone in the room was understandably jumpy- what with the bodies, blood, and the sound of fighting just outside the door. As if on cue, the sound of the battering ram crashing into the door rocked through the room- making everyone jolt and flinch in alarm and anticipation. Fight or flight. 

The group was moving towards their only means of exit, but Marzipan was still crouched on the floor. Frustration seeped into her, she was stronger than this! If only she could regain her senses, and she gave her head a hard shake- only to instantly regret the motion. Okay, no more shaking. Shaking is very very bad. 

Slowly crawling back to her feet, Marzipan swallowed and made her way to the chimney- not the last one to do so, but nearly so. Hand upon the cold sooty bricks, she looked up and watched as the flue tunnel weaved about, and felt her stomach drop with dread.

"I um," Marzipan licked her split lip and spoke to those around her, "I don't think I can make it up on my own..."