The band in the tavern had not stopped playing for hours. They would take short breaks, only long enough to gulp some water, chew on a bit of bread, then continue playing. Everyone in the tavern danced until they had holes in their shoes. Even though they were only halfway through winter, people brought out their pigs to roast, chickens to bake, and their stores of fruit preserves to make pies. The fireplace was roaring, and people warmed their cold fingers near it. Although that day had been unusually warm, winter still clung to the night.
All around that tavern, and in practically every tavern across the kingdom, people shouted, stomped their feet, and laughed until their sides were sore. Everyone felt as though laughter had been forbidden under the queen. Now they could breathe a little more freely.