Her eyes close briefly, shaking her head - yes, she misses her home, oh how she misses it. She missed it long before now, before ending up in this other world. With them shut, and this cold removed from her, she can see it. See it as it was. Maybe it would be easier if she could only remember it in flames. But she can see it still - the walls of the Mahal, the Fortress. The call of her husband's elephants, the raga's sung, the warm colour of the carved stones. The patter of Damodar's feet towards her, running towards her and calling for her with his nursemaid trailing behind. "No, it is not." A warmth to the words. "It is beautiful, because the people there make it so." She's being - fanciful. Waves her hand as if to dismiss the sun from her eyes and good memories from her mind.

Because he's right. "I do, I have missed it for years. It has been some time since I have been able to return."