As the morning sun began to fill the dining hall of the Royal Palace of Madrid, Tristan Bonaparte shared a quiet breakfast with an English noblewoman. The table between them was long, yet it seemed to shorten with each shared glance and smile.
Tristan observed the noblewoman, appreciating the simplicity and elegance of her attire She wore a cream-colored dress, tailored to fit her form without excess or ostentation. The red cape that draped over her shoulders was bright and eye-catching, but its design was practical, meant for warmth rather than show.
Her hair was light blonde, pulled back to reveal the full extent of her gentle features. Her eyes were bright and attentive as she looked back at him, a smile gracing her lips.
"Uhm…Your Majesty, I can't help but notice that you are looking at me quite oftenly. Is there something on my face?" she asked.
