The great hall of Frosthold was transformed.
Gone was the austere, functional space where warriors gathered for morning meals and evening reports. In its place was a riot of color and light and sound that seemed almost impossible within these ancient stone walls. Torches blazed in every sconce, their flames multiplied by polished shields hung as reflectors. Garlands of evergreen draped the pillars, filling the air with the sharp, clean scent of pine. Long tables groaned under the weight of food—roasted meats, fresh bread, wheels of cheese, pies, and pastries that must have taken the kitchens days to prepare.
And everywhere, everywhere, there was music.
