The pack house is a bustle with people, talking and moving from table to table to talk to different people. There is a bell and everyone sits down. soon the doors burst open and trays of food come flooding in. They approach and present us a smaller platter of food before laying large platters along the tables. Soon plates are put in front of us and we are served food and drink. This feels like something out of medieval times. I am served chicken breast, broccoli with garlic and parmesan, and a type of yellow rice. I was not hungry when I sat down, more concerned with the pressure of the corset, but now, as the smell of the food hits my nose, I am ravenous. I take a bite of chicken and it is mouth wateringly good. I am able to eat almost everything on my plate. The drink provided is some ki
