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Ireland [8]
In front of me, covered in green foliage, settled into the rolling hills, is a massive stone castle, surrounded by thick black iron gates and stone arches. “What is this place?” I breathe, amazed at the sight in front of me.
Even Berlioz seems impressed, stirring in his cat carrier.
Apollo smiles, cerulean eyes fixed on the magnificent structure in front of us. “This is yours, Hecate.”
“Mine?” I question, raising one brow. “Why would I have a castle in Ireland?”
“Gods get bored too.” He smirks, like he’s amused, and gestures towards the castle. “You discovered Ireland in the 1300’s, and decided you enjoyed the architecture of t
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