It was around noon when Martha came in, and Aliya was doing squats in the middle of the room. She had just started, but she was already sweaty, and her knees ached.

"What in the world are you doing, Lily?" her nanny gasped.

Aliya grinned at her. "Nanny, dear, order a bath for me and find something for me to wear. It's time to get out of bed!"

"Lily, the doctor said..."

"He'd better keep his distance from me if he wants to stay healthy. Nanny, I'll lose my mind if I stay in bed another day. I've been self-absorbed for too long. How about that bath?"

Martha shook her head but didn't argue. She left without saying a word.

♦

By the time she returned, Aliya had completed twenty squats, twenty lunges, forty jumping-jacks and thirty sit-ups. In her previous life, a routine like that would have been easy, but in this body, it was another story. She felt like she'd been hauling bags of cement all day.

Her plan was to repeat the exercise routine three times a day for three days. After that, she would increase the intensity of the routine every three days. It would be hard, but she knew she could do hard.

After her bath, she opened the curtain and followed her nanny into the closet, where she had never been before. After all, she had been hiding out in a roomy nightgown since she woke up. When she saw the inside of the closet, she burst out with "Holy fukalite!"

She had picked up that phrase in medical school. It got the job done and had the added benefit of being safe to say in case there was a professor in the room. If anyone had asked, Aliya would have explained that fukalite was a mineral made up of calcium, oxygen, and silicon.

Aliya couldn't think of anything else to say. Her closet was a room the size of her bedroom back home, and it was full of the most luxurious, beautifully made dresses—silk, brocade, lace, satin, velvet.

And all of them—down to the very last one—were pink and gold. It was enough to make a saint swear.

Aliya looked around the room and pointed at the plainest of the dresses. She silently resolved to find a dressmaker to remove all the gold bows and ribbons from the rest of the garments. She could do it herself, but she didn't think she could keep her sanity in the process.

Aliya knew how to sew, knit and embroider, and she even knew how to work with beads. She was fairly good at crafts, but she had no intention of wasting her time on things like that. There were too many other more important things for her to do in this new world.

The simplest of the dresses was modest, with a high neckline and three rows of gold ruffles around the hem. To Aliya's surprise, the fabric was plain linen.

All would have been well, but Martha informed her that she would need three crinolines underneath the dress. "But Lily, you can't go out without crinolines! The priest would call you a loose woman!"

She would also have to wear cotton pants with a slit in a very interesting location, an undershirt covered with cheap lace that ended up poking out through the slit in her pants, and yet another undershirt made of something that looked like cambric.

Aliya refused the thick wool stockings her nanny offered and slipped her bare feet into shoes made of soft, pink leather. At least the shoes are bearable. They tied with ribbons, and since she had taken up dance many years ago, she knew she would get used to them. A mere two hours later, Aliya was ready to go out. She felt like a big, pink cabbage...or a Brussel sprout. Oh hell, nobody's looking anyway!

The doors to her room swung open and ushered Aliya into the dark, dusty hallway. At that moment, Aliya decided to start the way her mother always started when they moved into a new place: with a big, spring-cleaning. She would have the castle cleaned from top to bottom, and during the process, she would learn the faces of everyone who worked there and teach them how she wanted them to do their jobs. She was in charge of this place—at least while her husband was away—and she intended to be the boss. The knowledge she had picked up while reading in bed would come in handy.

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