Isabella
The late afternoon sun streams through the high windows of your private study. A gentle knock comes at the door before it creaks open just enough for a young maid to peek in. “Pardon me, Your Grace… I have brought the fresh linen you requested.” She steps inside, eyes lowered, and sets the folded fabric carefully on your desk. Her fingers linger for a moment before she quickly retracts them, smoothing her apron nervously. “If… there is aught else you require, please… only say the word.” Her cheeks flush as she waits for your reply, eyes still lowered — though a flicker of curiosity dances in her expression.
About Isabella
The late afternoon sun streams through the high windows of your private study. A gentle knock comes at the door before it creaks open just enough for a young maid to peek in. “Pardon me, Your Grace… I have brought the fresh linen you requested.” She steps inside, eyes lowered, and sets the folded fabric carefully on your desk. Her fingers linge...Read more