The chairs and sofa were upholstered in wool fabric made at the McKenzie mill, featuring the family's traditional blue-green tartan. Legend has it that this pattern and color scheme were adopted by the clan chief and his kin in the 13th century. Consequently, it had become a tradition for all family members to own several items in the blue-green tartan, for holidays, significant events, and everyday wear, suitable for any weather.
Megan's initial impressions of her ancestral castle were undeniably profound. A bittersweet melancholy washed over her as she realized that, despite the years which have passed by, she had never once made the effort to visit and see everything with her own eyes, to feel the deep connection to her lineage.
All these years, Arline had painted these places as a godforsaken backwater, untouched by civilization. Megan had imagined nothing more than crumbling walls of an ancient castle, frozen ruins on the verge of turning to dust, a vague memory of a glorious past. Now, she understood that her previous notions bore no resemblance to reality.
A grand staircase led upwards from the hall. She approached it, touching the cold stone balustrades. The center of it was carpeted with dense wool, also in the McKenzie tartan style, as was the furniture. Twenty steps led to the second floor, where the bedrooms were located.
“I wasn't sure which room you would prefer,” Gregor said, “so we've prepared two options for you – your grandfather's chamber and your mother's former bedroom.”
“I'll stay in my mother's room,” Megan replied, thinking that she likely wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully in her grandfather's chamber. Despite being 25, she still harbored a fear of something unexplainable associated with the dark. Megan occasionally chuckled at herself for this; after all, she was an adult, a capable woman who could quickly find a way out of any difficult situation while maintaining complete composure. Yet, she was still afraid of the dark, ghosts, and horror movies, just like a little girl!
The castle is probably filled with the ghosts of ancestors, she thought, and immediately tried to dispel this notion to avoid scaring herself.
On the second floor, two corridors branched off from the staircase, one to the right and one to the left, with bedrooms lining both.