William did not gawk; he was not some peasant that lost all semblance of thought whenever he saw something remarkable. He was, however, impressed. The mansion was huge, fortified and breathtakingly majestic. The architect that had designed it must have been a genius to have moulded both function and beauty into the structure.
Polished granite buttresses sloped outwards from the fantastic structure where the slit windows looked out upon the front lawns and towers looked out from each corner of the winged estate. The lights lit to ward off burglars in the night gave it a dark air that was almost chilling.
“Welcome,” Morgana suddenly declared as they reached the ornate and reinforced oak doors “to my most favourite home,”
“You have more?” William said, stunned. Morgana had struck him as regal but such a sheer display of wealth was something he had only come to expect of his father and the associates of royal families.
“Well of course! You can’t expect me to have to travel all over the continent without home comforts! I maintain estates pretty much everywhere- but I like this one the best. It feels safer, even if it is less opulent that the manor in Vecava.” she sighed as she ushered them indoors while two men in plate armour held the doors. “But then again, I do like to summer in Vecava. It’s certainly much drier.”
The inside definitely impressed William. His father’s estate had been stuffy and formal, the stone used on the outside was the same as the inside and all of the decor was hard and almost foreboding, the portraits and the tapestries were the only thing to give it any form of life. Now he felt like he had stepped into a childhood fairy tale.
The crystal chandeliers hung at even intervals with great artworks of people, plants and animals decorated the walls and beautiful statues of marble seemed to grow out from the sheathed walls.
“Soren! Gabriel!” She called in a voice surprisingly loud for someone so delicate looking. A few moments later a man in a fine black surcoat appeared, the device of a full moon emblazoned in silver threat on the front. The dark colours didn’t really match his bright blonde hair or emerald eyes or his boyish smile.
“My lady!” he answered from the top of the parian hewn staircase that spiralled up to the first floor.
“Where is Soren?” She asked the boyish young man.
“He said he had an errand to run, Milady, and does not expect to return until tomorrow eve.”
“Oh yes,” she said as if suddenly remembering, “That business. Oh well, it’s of no matter. Will you kindly call the servants and have them prepare dinner?”
“Milady, dinner was already served. Roast duck, if you recall.” He told her shyly.
“So? I am hungry and I’m certain my guests are famished, so call them again. Also, make sure they bring up some drinks from the stores. I’m in the mood for whiskey this evening,” she told him whimsically. The man sighed and hurried out of the large hall. “now,” Morgana said as she turned to them with a smile, “let’s make our way to the dining hall. I’m sure you have many questions.”