I spend my time writing. I don’t know what I’m writing or why I do it, I just do. My parents think it’s a waste of time, but they never had to make their own way in life and take care of their future did they? No, is the answer to that.
From the day mother was born she was promised to father in marriage, and since he was in line to inherit the fortune of the second richest man in Britain, they both only needed to learn their manners.
‘Isabella!’ lady Soul’s voice echoed through the house to my bedroom.
‘Coming,’ I mumble as I crawl out of bed and find my forget-me-not blue dress.
‘ISABELLA!’ this time father yelled.
‘Coming!’ I replied, louder this time, ‘Just getting dressed!’
When I eventually get downstairs to the parlour, everyone is waiting for me. Well, not quite everyone.
Father isn’t there, but I know where he is because I can hear his deep voice echoing down the hallway from the front door.
‘Breakfast was 10 minutes ago Isabella!’ Grandma Jane scolded from the corner as I took my normal seat at the dinner table. Mother pushed a plate of bread and marmalade towards me.
‘Eat up dear; you’ve got a big day ahead of you.’ Mother seemed rather jumpy. There must be something important happening that I've forgotten about.
Oh God. The Royals.
I’m meeting the royals today. Suddenly my stomach became a flutter with nervous butterflies.
‘I need to get ready,’ I muttered as I ran out of the room and up the stairs to my third floor bedroom, where I hurriedly washed and changed into my best gold Sunday dress with the diamond embroidery and did my bright blonde hair in a ‘messy’ bun with flowers.
By the time I returned to the parlour I’d been in my room for just over an hour. Everyone was now seated, or standing, by the sofas.
Mother was dressed in a gentle lavender dress with amethysts in the centre of the flowers that were sewn into the bodice. Her hair had been curled and was sitting gently on her shoulders.
