This villa, too, belonged to Bradley.
While its expanse didn't rival that of the Royal Garden Mansion, its decor and layout were exquisitely crafted.
Servants offered to accompany Freya, but she declined.
Instead, she strolled alone along the cobblestone path, bathed in the morning's gentle sunlight.
The air was crisp, the surroundings serene—a picturesque scene reminiscent of the Royal Garden Mansion, nestled against the mountains.
Freya found herself contemplating the significance of both residences being situated against the mountains.
Before she could delve further, a figure darted toward her.
"Who are you?"
A young boy stood before her, his sparkling eyes akin to black gems.
Freya's face lit up at the sight of the adorable child. "I'm Freya. And you?"
"My name is Matthew."
