The part of the kingdom Delia went to look for Owen was a world away from the manicured lawns and grand manors she was used to. The abandoned tea shop stood at the end of a crooked, dusty lane, its windows boarded up and its paint peeling. Inside, however, Delia had brought a small pocket of comfort. She had laid out a feast from a nearby bakery on one of the less dusty tables: a whole roasted chicken, a loaf of soft bread, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a large pitcher of lemonade.
"Hmmm, this is delicious, Lady Delia," Owen said, his voice muffled as he chewed on a chicken leg, his mouth full. His eyes, bright and sharp in his young face, were shining with pure delight. "I'm so glad you came. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday evening." He finished the chicken leg and licked the grease from his fingers without a hint of shame, his hunger far outweighing any sense of etiquette.