ZURI

The grand dining room stretched out like a cavern of stone and firelight. Maybe I should have protested for us to have a more ‘quiet’ bonding dinner.

The long oak table groaned under platters of roasted venison, bread still warm from the ovens, and flagons of spiced wine that filled the air with a heavy, earthy tang. Candles sputtered in iron holders along the walls, cast shadows that danced over the tapestries of old battles and kings long dead staring down at us with empty eyes. ...