Breakfast is a low-key affair: Belgian waffles (Kate doesn't have the concentration and hand-to-eye coordination crepes require at the moment) and bacon, and another strong pot of coffee.

The plates are on the table -- along with syrup, powdered sugar, whipped cream, and a bowl of fresh fruit -- and she's about to slide into her seat when she goes to double-check the waffle iron.

Satisfied when she sees it's unplugged, after all, and she won't be burning down Demeter's house today, she takes a seat, wry half-smile firmly in place.

"God, now I remember why I hardly ever drink."