Isabel sat by the window with an open book in her hands. The room was quiet as if it was saved only for the occasional chirping of birds outside and the soft murmur of her voice as she read aloud. Her fingers traced the words slowly while her brows furrowed in concentration.
She stumbled over a particularly tricky word and her voice started faltering. "P-prosperous," she muttered, trying again with a bit more confidence. "The kingdom was... prosperous and... flour—" She paused, biting her lip as she struggled with the unfamiliar word. "Flour-ish-ing."
A quiet chuckle came from across the room, and Isabel looked up, startled. Ilyana stood in the doorway with her usual warm and gentle expression. The Empress had been watching her daughter from a distance while her heart swelled with affect
