Pena Palace sits above Sintra like a castle that refused to make decisions. Every style showed up, every color got a vote, and no one was told no. It’s theatrical, excessive, and faintly absurd—especially in the fog, where it looks like it’s hovering out of spite.

And yet it’s undeniably gorgeous, and historically significant in the way only unchecked royal enthusiasm can be. Which is why I burned it into black cherry: a former tree, now permanently hosting a palace with too many opinions.