Their estate is not the largest, but it is theirs.

The royal dance floor sits next to the royal stove. They bring in only the finest musicians that Spotify can offer. Everyone from Aretha Franklin to Hozier comes to town to play just for them. There’s the safe, warm crackle of eggs on the burner where the royal spatula proudly watches over its post. The band plays on while the royal refrigerator opens and closes.

The noble steed lounges on his dog bed in the corner, belly full of IAMS and joint supplements but still eyeing that chest of frozen treasures. Long in the tooth and white in the muzzle, but brave and loyal as ever, ready for Lady Fair to jump from castle walls and land safely in the saddle.

The royal couch is always ready to welcome ambassadors from far-off lands, but when it is not in use it is reserved for the gentle singing of songs and telling of secrets. For lazy afternoon naps and the planning of daring adventures.

The royal balcony is used to house the royal tea lights and watch snow flurries fall gently on the good people of the kingdom below. They shout down and back up at each other sometimes as the city glows before them.

The royal chariot contains keepsakes of nobility gone by, reminders from whence we came. A mobile shrine to ancestors past, dedications to how they found themselves the inheritors of the most beautiful kingdom in all of the known lands.

The royal bedroom is the most sacred of places. There is a drawer full of old sweaters. They are sized for the king, but he is forbidden from wearing them. There is a bookcase full of everything from Hemingway to Tina Fey. There are Monet paintings and classic tapestries to dress the walls.

The Little Castle contains every earthly delight imaginable, but this is soulless without the warmth that people bring to it. The music and tea lights mean nothing without the hum of conversation or the playful bark of a noble steed. This is what makes it the greatest manor in all the land.