[Meredith].
The walk to the dining hall was short, though every turn of the corridor reminded me of how vast this estate truly was.
When Draven finally pushed open the door, I found myself standing before a modestly sized room—modest by Oatrun standards, at least.
A twelve-seater table dominated the centre, polished to a shine that reflected the morning light streaming through the high windows.
It was smaller than the one in Duskmoor, far smaller, and I doubted that this was the only dining room in the estate, as it was different from the one I had walked into the first time I was here.
Also, the Oatruns had always been known for their lineage and wealth; there were surely grander halls reserved for guests and banquets.
But this one was warm, intimate even, with soft amber light from the chandeliers and the faint scent of roasted herbs lingering in the air.
