There once was a time when these halls were not left so bare. Stripped, uninhabited, left to rot for nearly a century, and even still a little longer than. Since the construction of their second chateau, the stone structure had been little more than a ruin surrounded by legends, curses, and superstition. It had not been a home for a very, very long time. And yet now in some sort of madness, Q could not help but return to its weathered white stone. To rebuild the castle that had thwarted all others’ attempts. It seemed rather amusing as they had received the original structure under similar circumstances. The castle knew its master. Q had made it their home.
Q had left the invitation open to Armand to come to stay with them in France. They could not force the vampire to join them, especially at the whim of a note slipped into their mail, but they had other matters here in Europe, and Q’s siblings did not appreciate the intercontinental distance. At least in a way they could find solace in knowing the cloaking wards Zedd had once put over their property to deter their visits remained undisturbed.
The witch sat quietly at their dining table, the heat of the fireplace behind them, painting the little watercolours they so adored. The table was a reproduction of a later style along with most of the chairs save for a couple from the last time the family sat. Spares if Q was to be completely honest. Q had always bought more than what was needed. It was only appropriate when catering for what could have been upwards of thirty at a time. And yet now these chairs sat empty.
A wisp of fur brushed past Q’s leg as one of their few hounds they had to watch the property bolted off from under the table to snarl at the window. Of course, they were not the wolfdogs they had bred in centuries past, however, they were attentive all the same and they provided Q with some company during their stay.
The ancient shook their head, taking their cane in hand as they moved to the window. Probably an owl or some nuisance rodent. The sound of the animal would quickly serve only to annoy them if they didn’t do anything to stop it. “Come. Now.” The witch clapped their hands. Nothing. The wary animal fixated at the frosted glass. It was not a reaction Q had wanted. “Come along.” With a firm shove, they forced the swollen panels apart. They greeted the brisk air with a less than enthusiastic expression. Peering out past the web of scaffolding into the shadows of the courtyard below. Eyes scanning, searching. A frown settles on their brow when they locate the culprit. They feel compelled to call.
“Excuse me, but do please tell me exactly what you’re trying to do?!”
