The empty dining room was just as flashy as the living room—if not more so.
It opened before Gianna like a scene lifted straight out of legend, vast and imposing, instantly reminding her of the dining hall of kings from the Merlin movie.
The table alone was long enough to seat an army, carved from dark, gleaming wood that reflected the overhead lights like polished obsidian.
Chairs flanked it in perfect symmetry, dozens of them, high-backed and regal, upholstered in rich fabrics of cream, gold, and deep burgundy.
There were far too many seats for a house that seemed to hold so few people, and Gianna found herself briefly wondering if the Becketts entertained entire entourages on a regular basis.
It felt unnecessary—almost indulgent.
Her gaze wandered further, taking in the rest of the dining room. The ceiling soared high above them, crowned with chandeliers so large and ornate they looked heavy enough to crash down if provoked.
