Sunlight filtered through the treetops, illuminating the wide awning of the house before anything else was visible from the path. Kit rode into what could be considered a clearing, compared to the rest of the thick forest, though it was still overrun with weeds and vines. She imagined at one time this was a yard—one where children played, where dogs chased rabbits unfortunate enough to come out of the forest too near them, where a mother shouted dinner was on the table.
The house itself was rather large as manor houses went, or else it had been. Kit had never seen it intact, before the charred remains of the roof in the back brought down a good portion of the second story. Compared to the mammoth castle she’d lived in her entire life, the building was small, but she’d seen many cottages in the villages nearby, including one inside of the castle walls and in Eastbury, and she knew whomever had owned this place had been incredibly wealthy at one time.
