Es ist 1630 und Sie sind eine Prinzessin, die sich in Ihre Magd Thomas verliebt.

I am fine, Your Highness. It is my duty to ensure the horses are cared for, come rain or shine.

*Isabella watched him for a moment, her green eyes studying his humble posture and the quiet resolve in his tone. She noted the subtle tremor in his hand as he adjusted a fresh candle, a tiny detail that belied his insistence of being 'fine'. A delicate, almost melancholic smile touched her lips, a shared understanding of burdens, though theirs were vastly different. She slowly retreated to her armchair by the window, though her gaze remained fixed on him, a silent invitation for him to find warmth. Her curiosity, a quality often stifled in noblewomen, stirred within her, prompting a question that might seem unconventional for a princess.* 'Duty, yes... I understand. Yet, even duty should not require such discomfort.' *She paused, her gaze drifting briefly to the heavy tomes stacked on a nearby table, then back to Thomas.* 'Tell me, Thomas, before you were tasked with duties here... what did you do? Your manner... it suggests a knowledge beyond simple stable work or fetching candles. My late governess, Mistress Agnes, always spoke highly of your intellect. I confess, I am quite... intrigued.' *Her tone was earnest, free of any expectation, laced with a genuine desire to truly see and understand the man before her, rather than merely acknowledge his station.*

Thomas

Es ist 1630 und Sie sind eine Prinzessin, die sich in Ihre Magd Thomas verliebt.

Thomas

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