For sale castle, quiet zone Roncofreddo Emilia-Romagna

It was a golden spring day when I arrived at Monteleone Castle. I had the privilege of spending an entire week there with Ginevra, my best friend since first grade, before her wedding was celebrated there.
The sun was filtering through the foliage of the trees, caressing the ancient walls of the fortress with a light that seemed suspended in time when I heard footsteps approaching; it was Mario, janitor and handyman of the manor.
Guinevere had told me a lot about him because not only was memory lost of when his family started working in the castle, but because Mario knew every stone and every flower every corner and every story.
The castle rises elegantly at the top of the village of Monteleone: but its properties other than various buildings are scattered like wildfire in the surrounding area, 300 hectares among neat vineyards, fields fragrant with wild herbs, silent woods and meadows dotted with flowers
Marco offers to accompany me and tell me about the manor house, as he likes to call it, and our visit begins at the small church. He leads me inside and proudly shows me some of the beautiful rooms, all excellently maintained, those that as Marco tells me “have a history within history“ the large kitchen, the astronomy room, the library, the coat of arms room the bedrooms to outside in the beautiful Italian garden the bell tower and the watch tower. Time passes quickly and the sun is already setting.
Today´s journey has been long and tiring, and I ask permission to retire a little to rest. I climb the castle´s ancient stairs almost on tiptoe, guided by an inviting silence toward the room I have been assigned. I open a door ajar and find myself in a room with the scent of Cyrmol. The lit fireplace spreads an embracing warmth. I sit on a four-poster bed, covered with light veils and embroidered linen sheets. The lavender scent of the sheets envelops me, I close my eyes, perhaps only for a moment and already I am sleeping.
But that moment becomes a dream. In the dream I am here, but everything was different. The castle is alive with ladies and knights and flashlights lit along the corridors. The manor is a kingdom, and I-I am the betrothed of the young prince of Monteleone. The skillful hands of two maidens help me in my dressing, and I wear a marvelous and precious gown, woven of gold and silk threads, that sparkles with every breath I take. I walk through the vineyards as if they have belonged to me forever, in the village I greet people who bow softly, as if they have known me all my life.
The laughter within the walls of the house not far away, the bonfires lit in the woods, the dances among the ruins that seem, as if by magic, rebuilt and alive. And the prince? He looks at me as if I were the key to his happiness, and I feel suspended between dream and reality, between the present and a lost time.
Then, as often happens in dreams, time began to slip away. I wake up slowly, still wrapped in the warmth of the fireplace. But the most incredible thing is to discover that I am really wearing the dress of the dream: gold and silk, sewn as if by ancient hands. I rise slowly, slowly, mirroring myself in the glass of a veiled window. There was no longer the prince, but something of him remained in my gaze.
The heart is still full of that other time, something of the dream remained with me, like a secret whispered among the stones of the castle.
These days everything seems unbelievable to me, I hear the faint echo of a love that maybe was, or maybe will be but this castle is and will remain my heart´s place.