Princess Vittoria Olympia of the Romana Family of Olympus
The floorboards didn't squeak, but they gave off a rich, solid hum of aged oak beneath my socks.
I stood in the center of the sunlit kitchen, dragging my fingers over a massive, rustic island cut from a single slab of dark Scottish walnut. The wood was cold, smooth, and smelled faintly of lavender oil and beeswax. Above me, heavy hand-carved timber beams stretched across a vaulted ceiling, giving the entire room the warm, secluded feel of an ancient highland hideaway rather than a royal residence.
We were no longer living in the grand, drafty suites of Holyroodhouse Palace.
