The deep brown of the exterior glistened under the sun, reflecting the shine of every neatly stacked board. The roof tiles did their own fair share of sparkling as well, pitch black they were, as clean and well maintained as the rest of the building.
"The stables would have been smaller had they not been one of the businesses my family runs," he crossed the threshold of the gigantic open gap that served as an entrance.
The so easily identifiable scent of horse stables hit Arabella before even stepping foot inside. The scent of pungent manure came a hint stronger than the mix of fresh hay and damp wood.
As harsh as that composition was on the nose, she still took the deepest of breaths upon entering the shade that the roof proffered.
"Horse trading is one of your family businesses?" she asked, eyes wandering around the vast cubicles hosting a beautiful creature each.
"It has been for centuries,"
