The first light of day slipped through Isadora's curtains as she dressed in a pale blue gown Celeste had laid out for her. It was modest yet elegant—fitting for a midday call at the palace. Her dark hair was pinned back, and she fastened her gloves before slipping on her shawl.
Downstairs, Lady Celeste D'Amore and the Earl waited in the entry hall. The Earl gave her a reassuring nod; Celeste's expression was anxious but steady.
"Remember," Celeste said softly as Isadora approached, "the King only saw you once, at the banquet. He'll want to know about you—where you're from, what you do. Could you keep it simple? You're his guest, not a subject to question."
Isadora nodded. "I won't volunteer anything more than necessary." She kissed Celeste's cheek and took her seat in the waiting carriage.
The streets to the palace were slick from last night's rain, but the morning was clear and bright. Isadora watched familiar rooftops give way to grand marble gateways as the carriage rolled in. Servants in royal livery ushered them through the courtyard's mosaic floors and up a flight of steps to a small reception room.
King Aldric stood as they entered, his silver hair shining in the light. He offered a warm smile. "Lady Isadora, welcome back."
Isadora curtseyed. "Your Majesty."
He motioned to the chairs by a low table. "Please, sit. I hope your journey was pleasant."
"Very," Isadora replied, settling into the cushion. A servant poured tea and placed a plate of biscuits within reach.
The King watched her with genuine curiosity. "Since the banquet, you've been—what did Lady Celeste tell me?—'learning the ways of Veridion.' Tell me more."
Isadora took a sip of tea and then set the cup down. "I've been at the estate, helping manage the harvest—that is, seeing the workers in the fields, ensuring supplies reach the villages, and attending to household duties."
He nodded. "Practical tasks. Noble work," he said, then paused, steepling his fingers. "And I was glad to hear of your recovery, Lady Isadora. Your return to good health was the bright spot of our banquet."
Celeste gave a soft smile. The Earl inclined his head. "She is, as you know, our daughter in every sense, Sire."
The King inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Indeed—Lady Celeste, your care has given Veridion one of its finest spirits. Isadora, you bear your family's name with grace."
Isadora managed a polite smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
He raised his cup. "I trust Veridion now feels like home to you?"
Isadora lifted her teacup and inclined her head. "Veridion has become my home, Your Majesty. The people here—especially in the villages around our estate—have welcomed me warmly. Lady Celeste has seen to my adjustment."
The King nodded, setting his cup aside. "Lady Celeste and I go back many years—her counsel has saved my kingdom more than once. I'm glad you find comfort in her care." He paused, eyes thoughtful. "Tell me, how do you spend your days now that you're well again?"
Isadora glanced at Celeste, who offered a slight nod of encouragement. "I accompany Lady Celeste on her rounds—visiting the outlying villages, ensuring that nearby farmers have seed for spring planting, and helping distribute supplies to those in need. I also learn the ledger work at the manor, so I understand our household's needs."
"A practical education," the King said, smiling. "Few young ladies take to such tasks with enthusiasm." He tapped a finger on the table. "And beyond the estate?"
Isadora hesitated, then spoke. "I—I have been helping Lady Evelyn with her brother's affairs as well. Duke Lucien, of course."
The King raised an eyebrow. "Lucien D'Aragon. He is… a complicated man." He sipped his tea. "His wounds are many, both seen and unseen. It speaks well of you that you would offer him your aid."
Isadora pressed her lips together. "He needed a friend, Your Majesty. I could not turn away."
He set down the cup. "Compassion is a rare gift in these times." He exchanged a glance with Celeste and the Earl, then added, "My son, Prince Alaric, was most curious after hearing of your kindness. He spoke of it at length."
Isadora's throat tightened. She lifted her cup to hide her momentary discomfort. "I appreciate his concern, Your Majesty, but I am here to serve my family and this kingdom in the ways I can."
The King chuckled softly. "Very well. Your devotion is noted." He leaned back. "One final question—have you given any thought to your future here in the court?"
Isadora met his gaze steadily. "My future is with my family, Your Majesty, and in serving those who need help."
He studied her, nodding slowly. "A wise answer." He stood, signaling the end of their meeting. "Thank you for your time, Lady Isadora. You and Lady Celeste are always welcome here."
Isadora curtsied. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
Evening at D'Aragon Hall
The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Isadora arrived back at D'Aragon Hall. The sky was painted in deep purples and grays, and a cool breeze drifted through the open courtyard. Lady Evelyn D'Aragon met her at the front door, worry still glimmering in her eyes.
"Heard you returned from the palace without issue," Evelyn said softly as they climbed the steps. "Lucien asked after you again."
Isadora offered a tired smile. "He worries. I'll see him now." She pushed open the heavy door and led the way through the silent halls.
At Lucien's chamber, they paused. Evelyn knocked lightly. "My lord?"
"Enter," Lucien's voice replied, flat but not unfriendly.
Inside, Lucien sat by the window, the curtains drawn just enough to let in a narrow strip of moonlight. He looked up as they entered, the bruise on his side still visible but fading.
"You came," he said simply.
Isadora crossed to the table where she set down a small basket of bread, cheese, and fresh fruit. "As I promised."
Lucien stood, leaning on his cane. His dark hair was damp again—Evelyn suspected she'd caught him at a brief moment of pride and self-care. "You should not have to—"
"I want to," Isadora interrupted. "Is there anything you need tonight?"
He shook his head. "Nothing—save your company."
She poured tea into two cups on a small brazier. Lucien accepted one without thanks, cradling it in his hands.
They ate in easy silence for a few minutes, the only noise the soft drip of embers and the scratch of the knife on the plate.
Then Lucien spoke, voice low. "The King… was curious about you."
How did you know I was at the palace, Evelyn mentioned it this morning
Isadora met his eyes. "He asked about my work here—and your condition."
Lucien frowned. "And you told him?"
"I told him I helped Lady Evelyn. Nothing more." She paused. "He asked if I had plans at court. I said only that I served my family."
Lucien's gaze flicked away, and he made a small, pained sound. "You were… diplomatic."
She studied him. "I had to be. I have no wish to cause trouble."
He sipped his tea. "Good." Then, with a trace of something else—jealousy, perhaps—he added, "The Prince seems fond of you."
Isadora sighed softly, setting down her cup. "I told the King I appreciate his concern but have no time for courtship."
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. "Wise."
They lapsed into silence again.
After a moment, Isadora spoke more gently. "How are you feeling tonight?"
He closed his eyes, pressing one hand to his side. "Better than yesterday.
She offered him a quiet smile. "I'll continue to come."
Lucien opened his eyes to look at her. "Thank you, Isadora."
She rose to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then."
He nodded. "Until then."
They stepped into the corridor together. Evelyn closed the door behind them.
"He's improved," Evelyn whispered.
Isadora nodded. "One day at a time."
They made their way downstairs. Outside, the moon was high, the courtyard silent but for the soft rustle of leaves.
Isadora paused by the gates. "Goodnight, Evelyn."
"Goodnight, Isadora."
She climbed into her waiting carriage. As the horses trotted away, Isadora thought of Lucien's guarded thanks, of the King's quiet approval, and of the thin, precarious thread she walked each day—between her foster family's expectations, the court's curiosity, and the wounded duke who had come to matter more than she ever anticipated.
Tomorrow, she'd return to D'Aragon Hall, ready to keep every promise she had made. And perhaps, bit by bit, she'd find her place in this world that was still so new to her.