The golden rays of the morning sun filtered through the lush green trees lining the path as our carriage rolled smoothly over the cobblestone road. I sat beside Vicky, the soft velvet cushions enveloping us in comfort. The carriage was adorned with intricate carvings and gleaming brass fittings that sparkled in the sunlight, a true testament to our family's status.
"Do you remember the last time we visited Orchast, Milo?" Vicky asked, her voice warm and melodic. She leaned back, her eyes drifting to the window as if peering into a memory.
"I was still a child, and the town felt so much larger then. I used to think the castle was the tallest thing in the world."
She smiled, captivated by my story. "Was Grandma really as strict as everyone says?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
