The carriage swayed gently as we passed through the winding paths of Brithuel's farmlands. I gazed out of the small window, letting my eyes wander over the endless rows of wheat and barley swaying in the afternoon breeze. Farmers worked tirelessly, their forms bent in labor as they sowed the land, while others paused to wave at us, their faces lighting up with joy.
I nodded at their gestures, though I doubted they could see it through the distant glass. "They seem content," I said, breaking the silence that hung between us.
Vicky, seated across from me, glanced up from the book she was reading. "Contentment is earned. Brithuel wasn't always this peaceful," she replied, her voice calm yet tinged with pride.
