Maria giggles. Keeps strumming the lyre. Then her fingers shift and the music is sadder, and tears spring to her eyes. The song she'd written for Anna and Liza's funeral, before she realized she could go make a bargain. She bites her lip to keep from all-out sobbing and puts the lyre down, suddenly exhausted and hungry. She goes to the kitchen and snags an apple, munching on it while she surveys the tons of food she'd cooked. All perfect, from the salads to the fish to the beef to the desserts. Despite herself she smiles at the accomplishment.
The hound came up and butted her chest with it's head. "And you helped too, pretty puppy. You're a really good cook." She had been concerned about dog fur getting in the food, but apparently the hound didn't shed either.