Maeve
Troy and I walked through the building, surprised by the amount of noise coming from the corridors as we headed down the many, many stairs to the lower-level courtyard.
“The buildings are where everyone lives, stacked on top of each other,” Troy said, smiling as a little girl ran past us, chasing after what must have been her older sister.
“This place is ancient, Troy. How old do you think this place is?”
Troy exhaled, looking around as we walked towards the courtyard, reaching up to run his hand along the wall.
“A thousand years, maybe more?”
“More?” I sucked in my breath, unable to process it.
“Well, how many White Queens have there been over time? Count back and that’s likely as old as this place, and even Winter Forest, should be.”
