“Megan, would you prefer to go by foot or by car?” asked Warren.
“I would love to take a walk.”
“Alright, it's not far from here.”
Dressed in traditional attire, Warren, his wife, and Megan left the house. Castle Raven was clearly visible from everywhere. It towered over the entire area, unlike Castle Mal, which was situated in a valley by the river. For about fifteen minutes, the owners of both estates climbed the hill. The evening was warm and pleasant. The sea was calm, and the wind occasionally brushed against their faces. A few minutes later, the group arrived at the entrance of the historical castle.
“It's breathtaking!” Megan exclaimed in admiration, trying to take in all the details of the facade. Her gaze fell upon a majestic three-story stone building made of heavy square blocks. On either side, there were four high rectangular towers adorned with battlements, slightly taller than the main building. Above the massive entrance door was a coat of arms unfamiliar to the girl. And from where the castle stood, there was a magnificent view of a series of cliffs stretching into the sea. The area around this historical structure was empty except for the small chapel containing the Drummond family crypt.
“Warren, why is there a bird on the coat of arms?” Megan asked a bit tensely.
“It's a raven, the heraldic symbol of the clan,” her cousin responded. “As I told you, the last of the Drummonds disappeared, and Castle Raven passed to the McKenzies. Everything here has been left as it was, in respect of the centuries-old friendship between the clans.”
“This bird is now going to haunt me everywhere! And has probably already become my life companion,” the girl murmured.
Once in the main hall, she immediately noted a significant difference between this and the hall of the ancestral home. This one seemed a bit gloomier and colder, with heavy bare stone walls. The furniture, made of mahogany, was upholstered in dark burgundy velvet. A huge, antique chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling. A large fireplace was built into the wall, above which was also the family crest of the former owners. Six tall, floor-to-ceiling windows, lined the façade wall. They were decorated with velvet curtains in the same hue as the upholstery, tied back with gold twisted cords and tassels. Like the neighboring castle, this one also housed many hunting trophies.
“This home isn't as modernized as Castle Mal,” said Warren.
“Well, that's not modern either,” Glenn objected, “but Castle Raven only looks old-fashioned on the ground floor. The last of the Drummonds redesigned the rooms in the style of the late nineteenth century. They're beautiful, cozy and comfortable.”
At that moment, Alaric and Duncan came into the hall.
“Oh, I see you've already become a true McKenzie,” Duncan said, carefully examining his cousin's outfit.
“Our colors suit you very well,” Alaric said approvingly.
“Thank you, I'm glad to see you both.”
In reality, Megan felt quite awkward in their presence. She very much wished for the lingering tension, left after the family meeting, to finally dissipate so they could interact without strain.
“Really?” Duncan asked with a hint of sarcasm.
Warren intervened before anyone could comment further, “How's it going, bro?” Getting ready for Witch's Night?” he cheerfully said, clapping his brother on the shoulder as a greeting. “We've already introduced our relative to the local traditions and recounted the legends of this region. She's eagerly awaiting the festival!”
