After passing through the defensive gate, one discovers a small, discreet, almost secret vestibule, where one of the castle's vital treasures is nestled: the well. Light barely penetrates, gliding along the walls as thick as silver thread, and one immediately feels the coolness characteristic of places steeped in water and stone.

This modest space, which might go unnoticed by a hurried visitor, nevertheless played an essential role in the past. It was here, in this sheltered alcove, that people came to draw the water necessary for daily life. One can imagine the figures coming and going in the early hours of the day, the bucket striking the rim with a hollow sound, the rope creaking under the strain, and finally the gentle lapping of water rising from the depths. This well was not merely a source of water: it was a guarantee of survival in case of siege, a precious resource kept hidden in the shadows, out of sight.

Today, the vestibule seems suspended outside of time, like a silent witness to gestures repeated for centuries. As you walk through it, you almost feel as if you can still hear the murmur of the water and the scraping of footsteps that once animated this small stone sanctuary.