The sitting room that Heila led Isabell to was like nothing the woman had ever seen. A crackling fire burned in a large granite hearth, filling the room with the faintest trace of cedar woodsmoke and enough warmth to forget that winter had nearly arrived outside.
The furnishings, from the plush sofas to the low table between them, were all crafted from the finest materials. Exquisite care and attention to detail had been lavished on each piece, with decorative carvings of intricate knot-like patterns on some and more organic, leaf and vine motifs on others.
The thing that truly took Isabell's breath away, however, was the sweeping view of the Vale of Mists provided by a wall of windows that was made almost entirely of glass. Not just any glass either, but large tiles of perfectly flat, perfectly clear glass that only barely distorted her view of the misty forest outside and the ancient fortress below.
