The midday sun poured through the tall glass windows of the Bleaufort estate's grand dining hall, filling the room with a warm, golden brilliance.
Brandon sat at the head of the table with two beautiful women on both sides.
On his left, Florence and on his right, Eira was sitting.
A quiet knock signaled the arrival of lunch.
A line of uniformed servants entered, bearing platters and silver domes.
One by one, they unveiled the dishes filling the air with the rich aromas.
There was roasted duck lacquered with a glistening glaze of fruit and honey, its skin browned to a crisp perfection.
A saffron and almond rice dish accompanied it.
In another dish, slow-braised beef shank sat atop a bed of wild herbs and root vegetables, steam rising gently from the still-bubbling sauce.
Seafood was not forgotten—there was a chilled platter of lemon-garlic marinated prawns, and fish slices seared in a white wine reduction.
