Something That Cannot Be Removed

As I stepped into the Drakhan carriage, the soft leather seats welcomed me with a familiar sense of comfort. The door clicked shut behind me, and within moments, Alfred appeared, the ever-loyal butler following my steps as if by instinct. His movements were precise, methodical, the product of years of serving in the Drakhan estate. Without a word, he entered the carriage, closing the door gently, and the wheels began to turn as the carriage started moving smoothly across the cobbled streets.

The motion was almost unnoticeable, a testament to the quality of craftsmanship in the carriage, an effort I had personally overseen. Inside, there was no jarring, no shaking. Just the gentle hum of movement that allowed for peaceful thought.