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Elisabeth woke up and stood up. Her head span. Colours still flashed before her eyes. She brushed down her gown and straightened her bodice, grimacing as her corset dug into her sides. She looked up.

It wasn’t a town. It couldn’t be. It was so full of people, a few of which were staring at her. Elisabeth lifted her head. They couldn’t look at her like that – she was a countess. She looked around again and took the details in fully. Some of the women were wearing TROUSERS! She noticed a sign. It read: London. Praise the Lord she was still in the capital.

She stepped carefully out of the surprisingly clean gutter, drawing back as a strange, coloured object passed her quickly. Spotting a reasonably dressed man, she walked to him and said: “I demand to see Queen Elizabeth.”

The man laughed and then saw her unamused expression.
“You can’t do that, love.”
He had barely finished the last word before the girl had slapped him hard across the face.
Suddenly overcome by tears, she sank to the ground.
“Where am I?”

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