Lady Whistledown Society Papers
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Grosvenor Square, 1814
Dearest Gentle Reader,
Did you miss me?
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Aaliyah wandered the halls with her maid hot on her tail, carrying a basket of fresh linen. They passed through the large double doors, and Johanna, the raven-haired maid, scrambled to keep up with her mistress. "We must visit the orphanage later," Aaliyah muttered to herself.
Johanna, who had a habit of making a to-do list for every day, noted down the errand. "Of course, Miss. Shall it be before or after your promenade?" Aaliyah turned to her with a puzzled expression on her face.
"What promenade?" Johanna showed Aaliyah a letter with the seal of the House of Hohenzollern.
"It was delivered this morning." Aaliyah's eyes scanned the letter, furrowing her brow when she noticed that it was from none other than Princess Adelheid herself. "How come Adi never said anything to me in advance?" Johanna scrambled to find an explanation.
"The message was delivered this morning, Miss." Aaliyah let out a deep sigh before rolling her eyes. "Yes, Johanna. Write a reply that I will come to the House of Hohenzollern later for the promenade." Johanna saluted and ran off to pen the response.
Aaliyah watched as her maid scurried away, carrying the letter. Suddenly, a familiar man made his way to the blonde beaut and smiled. Leon leaned in to give Aaliyah a quick kiss on the cheek as she raised her brow at him.
"Why are you here at this early hour?"
"Dir auch einen guten Morgen, al." She smirks at him before asking, "Shouldn't you be out today?"
Leon shrugs as he softly placed his hand at the blonde's lower back. "Oh well yes, I just had to waltz in and say hello to one of my favourite person in the world"
Aaliyah scoffs shaking her head, and softly pushed him away playfully. "Away you must go now, and say hello to Jakob for me."
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Questions abound as to this author's identity and means. Seeking those answers shall prove fruitless, indeed. There is, of course, another unknown identity at present. Though, this one you will be unable to unearth. I speak of the season's diamond, wherever she may be. Your move, Your Majesty.
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