Jenny: Raisins

Dancing among the other slaves in the kitchen, moving for the quiet corner, the Guttersnipe snatched a look at the girl over her shoulder. "Domitia? That's unfortunate. Still, there are worse people you could be named after. You could be Livia."

She folded up onto one of the three-legged stools, tumbling a fistful of raisins out into a tidy pile before her. "No milk," she said; "but there's this wedge of cheese." She pulled out her knife and cut the block in two, shoving the larger of the pieces toward the girl.