By the next morning, Charles Fitzwilliam arrived at the Hesh Factory, eager to see the marvel that Amber had described so vividly. His carriage pulled up at the factory gates, where workers were already busy with their morning routines. The air was crisp, and a thin layer of frost clung to the ground. Charles stepped out, his sharp eyes scanning the sprawling complex for any signs of the invention that had captivated his thoughts all night.
Matthew, alerted by one of the factory guards, emerged from the workshop, wiping his hands on a rag. He greeted Charles with a firm handshake.
"Charles," Matthew said warmly, "you're up early. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Charles wasted no time. "Amber has told me about your flying machine. I'm here to see it for myself. Is it ready for another demonstration?"
