Fifteen Years Ago
Fingal felt like his mind had awoken inside a vivid dream as he and Brendan strolled through the massive corridors in Kentinough’s Lairts’cre villa. Aefrun had promised an official tour, but that was before they’d received word of the courtly faes’ arrival. Perhaps after they’d gotten this dinner over with, Brendan would be up for some midnight exploration.
Unlike the castle in the capital, whose undecorated walls had been mostly utilitarian as far as Fingal knew during the occupation, Kentinough had utilized the wide, long corridors to show off his vast collection of antiques, modern and historic tapestries, and other oddities on raised pedestals. They were supposed to be down in the main hall at least ten minutes ago, yet Fingal and Brendan kept a leisurely pace as they took in and admired every painting and unique art piece in sight.
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