The sun beat down mercilessly on the cobblestones, reflecting off the ornate palace gates. Two young boys, no older than ten, giggled as they navigated the bustling crowd, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and mischief. They clutched a worn map, their fingers tracing the route to the palace gardens, the highlight of their summer vacation.
Finally, they reached their destination. The palace gardens were a riot of color, a symphony of fountains, exotic flowers, and meticulously manicured lawns. But it was the sight of the Royal Guard that truly captivated the boys. Standing ramrod straight, their uniforms gleaming in the sunlight, they exuded an aura of power and discipline that both intimidated and fascinated the young adventurers.
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One boy, bolder than the other, nudged his friend. “Let’s go ask them for a photo!” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
His friend, more cautious, hesitated. “Are you sure? Won’t they be angry?”
“Nah,” the bolder one scoffed. “They look cool. Maybe they even like taking pictures.”
With a mixture of bravado and trepidation, they approached the guards. One of them, a tall man with a stern face but surprisingly kind eyes, smiled gently at the boys. “Hello there, lads,” he boomed, his voice surprisingly deep. “What brings you here?”
