Priscilla just smiled at her master's guest, and silently turning away. Quickly making her way down the hallway- only glancing back once to ensure that Jazelle, her charge, was in tow- she walked... straight.

The same window appeared four times, with the exact same view, even though there were birds flying about, chirping, before they reached another crossroads of sort. It was in this section of the castle-tower that there was something other than the norm- here, the walls were spaced out more, to allow up to seven people to walk side by side, with only stone visible behind wooden units of furniture- varying from nightstands, benches, and long drawers/tables alighted with candles and various pieces of history- swords, magical items, etc. One consisted of a skeletal hand, with its farthest joints replaced with small candles, who had flames that didn't burn anything, including the wax.

There was a slight, pleasant hum to the air, originating from around those items- protected by wards, meant to stop any prying hands.

Finally, Priscilla, after turning a couple times down these new hallways, laden with tapestries and small chandeliers every twenty feet or so, stopped at a large double door. With a slight curtesy to Jazelle, she opened the doors, and ushered her in.

[hr]

Inside was a grand, almost ballroom-sized dining room, with a giant pit int he middle, where a fire burned and meat roasted. Directly in front of Jazelle, between her and the fire, was a table laden with more meat- some cooked, some raw, waiting for the fire- and various other ingredients, including a couple bowls of fruit.

On the opposite side of the fire was a table thrice the width of the cook's table (which was, indeed, attended by a cook), so that its sides were easily far enough to the left and right of the fire to allow other tables to join it, and form a U-shape around the firepit.

For reference, the []_ are tables, and the : is the cook's table and fire.
___
[ : ]

Even though there was enough room to fit over a hundred people on the outer edges of these tables (which were the only places with chairs), it wasn't nearly so filled. The left 'wing' had about a dozen guards, wearing armored robes that hung all the way down to their knees, and the glint of chainmail beneath, while the right wing had almost twice that in servants. All of them were eating breakfast, as prepared by the cook. Two servants rushed in from a side door, carrying plates of prepared vegetables, bread, and cheese, which the cook added cooked meat to, straight off the fire, and was passed out among those that hadn't eaten.

At the very opposite of the table, in the largest and comfiest chair of them all, directly opposite of Jazelle, was yours truly, Sunder.

Who grumpily eyed Jazelle with the look that suggested, very much, that he was NOT a morning person.

Priscilla quietly urged, "Go sit by him. You'll have a plate in a minute or two- and eat up. It might be awhile before you eat again."

Without offering any more wisdom, Priscilla turned and walked out, to attend to other duties. She always eats earlier, with the first shift to get breakfast.