A Scottish Tale
It was an uncharacteristically warm evening. I stared out the window across the grounds, the moonlight filtered through the high wisps of clouds, casting flitting shadows through the trees and inky black shadows behind the hedges. The guests would arrive soon. How I hated these functions, but it kept me in good graces with the townspeople. I loved the people and I wanted them to have a good time, I just didn’t want to be there for it. Idle chit-chat for hours, the good-natured drunken brawl...