The guest suites she's being shown have multiple rooms, actually! They're small and cramped and old by modern Earth standards, but she can have one with a window in the bedroom or one with a window in the parlor sitting-area; the one with a window in the bedroom has a writing-desk in the second room. Both of them also have a third littler room with a bathtub in it.  

Her point of comparison is a bedroom in her parents' house, so in terms of space that's primarily hers it's not much of a step down except in terms of bathroom quality. She picks the one with the writing desk, thanks the woman, and asks if she knows how Margaret should go about getting meals, expecting the answer to be some variant on a shared kitchen or a cafeteria.

"Dear, you just ring the bell here and ask! - I'm afraid most of our staff won't speak Tantaran, but you can request someone who does if you've a hankering for something in particular instead of just 'breakfast', I suppose." 

"Oh! Thank you. Um, are there places I can go where there are people around talking, so I can listen to the local language and try to learn it? Also is there a room I should go to to do magic experiments?"

"Ooh, you're a mage! Goodness. I - will need to get permission to unlock one of the Work Rooms for you, but I'll do that right away. For the language... Hmm. We don't have a lot of diplomatic guests right now, there's the war you see, but if you want to join the Court for dinner in the hall, I can show you over there." 

Oh no, a court. Probably less scary than being ignorant of the language indefinitely. "Only if it wouldn't be impolite. And thanks for helping with the work room."

"You're very welcome! Did you want to go over there now or have some time to get settled in here first?"

"Now is fine; I haven't really got anything to unpack," she adds with a wry smile. The lack of a second set of clothes and a toothbrush has not stopped being unpleasant, but she knows how much fabric cost before the mechanical loom and she wants to be of some benefit to someone here before she asks about clothes.

"- Goodness, dear, how did you end up here without any of your things?" 

"The short version is 'my own carelessness'; the longer version is that I got dropped nearby by an artifact that didn't come along with me."

"You poor thing, how inconvenient. Hmm, let me think what we'd better get you to borrow - you must not have a nightie to sleep in, we can get you one. I'll have a think, in the meantime you can learn the language some..." The woman is leading her back down the hallway in a different direction, and then down some marble stairs.

"Thank you." She memorizes the route so she can get back to her room later, and also get a sense of how the building is laid out.

Based on the angles of corridors and stairs, and the places they pass with windows onto courtyards and gardens, the building is a complicated arrangement of linked wings; the part they're in is vaguely shaped like a letter 'H' but the overall structure could be more complicated. It seems like she was initially on the second floor, on the upper right limb of the 'H', and the hall is downstairs and in the crossbar. 

...The hall, when she's led into it, proves to probably take up at least two storeys worth of height, actually, with its tall arched ceiling painted and decorated with bas-relief carvings and frescoes. There's a large decorative fireplace, not currently lit, and more crystal glowing globes hanging from long chains, and some varnished wooden tables - some long, some little and round. It's not heavily occupied right now but there are a cluster of people, dressed in clothing that's probably fancy for the era and tech level, sitting at one of the long tables and talking over drinks. 

She takes a seat at the next table over, on the far side of it so she's facing the talking people, and tries to hang around picking up vocabulary in a way that does not look like the totally different activity of loitering and eavesdropping.

They notice her and there are a lot of sideways glances but no one interrupts, it seems like sitting alone at a table is taken as a signal that this would be intruding. 

They're talking in a slightly different accent and dialect of the Predain tongue from the one in the other city's inn, but she can still catch a lot of the words. They seem to be mostly arguing about whether an upcoming marriage between two acquaintances known to the group is one they approve of. 

She soaks up grammar and also incidentally cultural context on what things people approve and disapprove of and suchlike, and smiles shyly at the people who give her sideways looks.

Eventually a pretty serving-girl in an apron comes by and asks - in the Predain language, but she can half understand the phrase by now - if she would like anything to drink, or lunch? 

"Lunch--" ah bother, conditionals, "is good, thank you."

The servant bobs her head, and shortly later Margaret is brought some lunch! There's fish stew with interesting foreign spices, and mushrooms in cream sauce in a separate dish, and a salad, and a tall glass of slightly-fizzy-fermented cider. 

Excellent. She can tell she's going to miss dessert if it isn't a common thing here, but unfamiliar food is exciting and fun. She eats and thinks about what things are likely to be good inventions on this tech base and how to go about getting paper. Maybe there's a library somewhere nearby where she can learn more context without anyone having to spend time explaining things; if not maybe it's because she can invent the printing press. 

When she's finished, she looks around at whether there's somewhere people are bringing their dishes or if you're just supposed to leave them on the table like at a restaurant, and once she's done whatever the customary thing is she goes off to explore the building a little. She doesn't go anywhere that looks like it might not be a public area, and if it's not clear which areas are the non-public ones she'll just go back to her rooms.

Most of the doors in the hallways are locked or otherwise look non-public, but most of the gardens and courtyards are easily accessible! The flowers here are less sad and straggly; there are some interestingly foreign-looking trees, and also ones that look exactly like the pine trees and apple trees she knows on Earth. 

Margaret has not traveled widely enough to have confident guesses whether any of the plants have no Earth equivalent, but it gets her thinking about the nature of multiple worlds. The biology suggests that this world diverged from hers at some point, but the telepath didn't recognize Earth's continents. That's not really proof, though; maybe they just don't have accurate maps of the whole planet or that person hadn't seen one. Or maybe this is alternate Australia and they draw their maps the other way up. She has no idea whether any of this speculation will help with designing a way home, but it's interesting to think about.

Eventually she goes back to her room just because it's somewhere she's definitely allowed to be and also if anyone is looking for her that's probably where they'll look.

No one is waiting for her there, but someone has supplied her writing desk with a generous stack of paper - in various sizes including very big - and an array of pens and different-coloured inks. 

Awesome! She starts writing (very small, to save paper) notes on ideas for interdimensional travel and rune math and incantation drafts for the communications items and a list of things to invent (indoor plumbing, the telegraph if it seems likely to be better than mass-producing magic comms items, the printing press if they don't have it, various appliances backed up by her infinite electricity artifacts . . . )

It's well past a sensible dinnertime when she realizes that she needs to eat; after some hesitation she pulls the bell anyway. Hopefully whoever answers won't be annoyed.

They do not seem annoyed at all, and bring her a meal promptly! Dinner is - pig feet in sauce? And some vegetable that looks vaguely like asparagus, with cheese sauce on it, and bread, and it comes with watered-down wine in a jug.