The great hall of Frosthold had never looked so magnificent.
Torches blazed in every sconce, their flames reflected in polished shields hung on the walls, casting dancing shadows across the stone. Garlands of evergreen draped the pillars, their sharp, clean scent mingling with the aroma of roasting meat and fresh bread. The long tables were covered in white cloths, their surfaces laden with dishes I had never seen before—roasted pheasant glistening with herbs, honeyed carrots, wheels of cheese, pies and pastries stacked high, and at the center of it all, a massive boar, its skin crackling, its apples still gleaming.
