Lucille
Isabella greeted us as we entered, dressed in casual slacks and a soft jumper. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she appeared pleased to see us.
In all our years of marriage, this was only my third visit to Forthwith. The castle was beautiful, while the inside was strikingly modern. Isabella had a hand in the renovations. If she wasn't busy with her work as princess, duchess, and that of mother; interior design would be an alternate profession.
“Welcome," she said, offering Roman the customary 'Your Highness' and a curtsy.
He returned her greeting with a nod and something close to a huff. “Our apartments?" he asked the butler.
“This way, Your Highness."
Isabella reached for my hand. “Stay, let the grump go on ahead."
“I should—"
“You should tell me what'
