Castles, Part two. Pamenwen

Play this song while you read.  I give most of my places songs that sum them up.
King Diorn's palace of Pamenwen is far out of the way of the smog and clamor of his capital.  It is fifteen miles Northwest of Tronanheim, in the little village of Milevonne.  It was built some three or four hundred years before Diorn's time, by King Elwood, who craved peace and quiet.  He designed it for comfort, knowing that in event of attack, the military stronghold was just fifteen miles away in Tronanheim.  He caulked the windows against the bitter Kantonese winters, and added a fireplace to every room, even for the army of servants.  The many chimneys made the royal residence look like a giant porcupine sitting on a forested hill.  The stables could house four hundred horses, and the teeming kitchens were capable of roasting twenty-five geese at a time, as well as pastries and whatever other delicacies Elwood requested to be brought to his immense table. I need not even tell you about the size of the cellars and his imported Altesean wines. His highness loved to hunt and throw lavish parties; to care for his kingdom, not so much.  He died from choking on a pheasant bone at a party held in honor of his mother's birthday.  By Diorn's time Pamenwen was no longer in its heyday. Diorn preferred the smelly canvas tents of military campaign and prospective glory to the decadent luxeries of his palace.  He viewed himself as a conqueror, not an entertainer of  flattering courtiers.  He spent more time within the thick walls of the citadel  plotting his conquest of the world with his Kiilothi than in Pamenwen with his lonely queen.  Queen Bernice left her nunnery to marry a king. She now had every material thing she could possibly want, but not the heart of her husband.  He built her an ice-rink in her private courtyard, but never once visited it.  The life of a conqueror's wife is a lonely one.  I imagine Pamenwen looking a bit like this, but taller.

Chateau de Luynes.  I do like these French castles.