Vossmere Manor came into view long before anyone reached its gates.
The estate stood on a broad hillside three miles south of Calderport, where the surrounding forest had been cleared so completely that the manor dominated the landscape.
Cass let out a low whistle.
"Someone has entirely too much money."
Karsh looked toward the sprawling estate.
"I was thinking the same thing."
Torin studied the buildings quietly.
The manor wasn't new.
That much was obvious.
The oldest section had been built generations ago, but each successive owner had expanded it until the additions blended almost seamlessly into the original structure.
It wasn't a palace.
It was something subtler.
The sort of wealth that accumulated patiently over decades.
Perfectly trimmed hedges stretched along the inner gardens.
Stone paths curved between flower beds arranged with almost mathematical precision.
Nothing looked accidental.
Everything looked maintained.
"Professional gardeners," Brogan muttered.
