I slowed as we walked through the gardens, the crunch of crushed granite underneath our feet. It was paradise.
The general layout of the castle foundation and the type and color of outer stone were the only things that were similar to the ruin. Rather than a few sparse windows, three walls of the great room featured stained glass windows, as many as the famed cathedral at Cologne. I knew this because I’d once dreamed of a trip to Germany.
These windows told stories of mythic creatures, wars, famous lovers, notable monarchs, and many things I wasn’t equipped to interpret. The bank of windows at the head of the enormous nave were slightly larger, the one in the middle depicting a figure in a scarlet-colored robe. To his right was an elf writing on a scroll with quill pen. To his left was an enormous, fierce-looking winged lion sitting like a sphinx with one paw raised as if either protecting the magistrate or demonstrating a threatening prowess.
The large dais supported furniture that resembled a modern courtroom judge’s bench, but was intricately carved, undoubtedly with more tales or history of magic kind. To the left and right of the dais were raised galleries, carved to match the judge’s bench, with rich-looking upholstered seating the same scarlet color as the magistrate robes. The pair of galleries looked like they could function as choir lofts or jury seating.
The floor of both nave and aisles was a mosaic of gardens in full bloom underneath seating that was shaped like long benches, but covered in deep plush velvet upholstery in various shades of green that would be found in gardens.
“Beautiful,” I whispered.
“Is. Isn’t it?” Keir said from beside me. “The fae queens are known for their decorating skills.”
“I can see why.”
“I’m glad you like it because, during Court Week, this is your kingdom.”
I jerked my head in his direction. “This is…”
“Your court, Magistrate.”
Of all the things I’d expected, holding court in a space as grand and immense as the interior of Tregeagle, wasn’t one of them. I’d never been a huge fan of public speaking. Or having a lot of attention drawn to myself.
I hadn’t realized that I was shaking my head no until Keir said, “Why are you shaking your head? Is there something about it you don’t like?”
I breathed in a muffled laugh. “That’s not the problem.”
“What is?”
“I’d thought court would be small. A few people at a time.”
“Oh.” He looked around like he was trying to imagine that. “No. It’s a gathering. It won’t always be filled to capacity. There will be a lot going on outside. Much like a human carnival. But there will be cases of high interest that draw spectators and, at times, the aisles might be filled with what you call standing room only?”
“What about the fire hazard?” I said lamely.
“Not an issue.” He laughed softly. “But I think you were joking. Would you like to see your chambers?”
“Chambers?” At that point I decided I might as well relax into the full Alice-down-the-rabbit-hole experience. After all I’d signed on for the ride. “Sure. Why the hell not?”
We walked the length of the nave, slowly, turned right at the dais and Keir opened a side door at the end of the columned aisle. The magistrate’s chambers were like a private apartment with living and dining areas, bedroom, study, and toilet.
“Why is there a bedroom?”
“It’s easier for you to stay here in Court Week. It also discourages people from trying to get your attention and influence your decisions.”
“Is there security?”
“The only security you need is me. And my reputation. During Court Week I will sleep at the door to your chambers. You’ll be as safe as if you were with the gods.” I looked his way. Something about the way he said that made me believe it. “Will this do?” He looked around the apartment like he was trying to imagine how it might look through my eyes and I was struck by the sense that he was invested in my reaction.
“Of course, Keir. How could I ask for more?”
I was gratified by the obvious pleasure he took in my answer. “It was very thoughtful of you to arrange this, um, tour. So that I’d know what to expect and not be overwhelmed when…” I trailed off.
“When the next Court Week is in session. At Hallowstide.”
“Yes. Hallowstide,” I repeated. “Although I expect no amount of preparation and pre-warning will stave off the being overwhelmed.”