The heavy wooden gates groaned under their iron reinforcements as they inched open, revealing the towering stone walls of the castle beyond. A biting wind swept through the archway, carrying the scent of damp earth and the distant smoke of burning torches. The portcullis, a menacing lattice of iron spikes, hung ominously above, still slick from the morning rain.

Beyond the threshold, a sprawling courtyard stretched wide, alive with the sounds of a bustling stronghold. Blacksmiths hammered steel on anvils, their sparks flickering like fireflies against the gray stone. Soldiers, clad in chainmail and polished breastplates, drilled in formation, their synchronized movements a testament to the discipline of the garrison.

To the left, stables bustled with activity, stable hands rushing to tend to snorting warhorses, their breath visible in the crisp air. The scent of hay and damp leather mixed with the sharp tang of manure, grounding the castle in its everyday life. On the right, the castle’s towering keep loomed, its massive stone facade weathered by centuries of wind and war.

High above, banners emblazoned with the ruling house’s sigil snapped in the wind, their vibrant colors standing in defiance against the gray sky. Guards patrolled the parapets, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble. From within the grand hall, the distant echo of a feast in progress spilled into the courtyard, the murmur of voices and the occasional burst of laughter hinting at the warmth beyond the cold stone walls.

The castle was a fortress, a home, and a seat of power—an unyielding testament to the strength of those who ruled within, yet...what laid within was not what anyone would have thought.

The halls of the castle were noisy, too noisyf or one feel comfortable in, a coronation was today(yours) and everyone maid and night was a running about making the place as beautiful as it could be.