Middle Row Alley

The narrow paved passage between the brick rows of Windsor shops presses close and claustrophobic, its walls lined with the overflowing bins and discarded crates of market day. Puddles reflect the grey dusk light and the distant pulse of the festival crowd, while the scent of damp stone and spilled ale lingers underfoot. This unremarkable lane serves only as a cut-through to the bustling thoroughfare, yet it feels like a stage set deliberately confined for the brief walk where Richard’s unease and Peinforte’s ruthlessness collide.