CREAK!
Isabelle was escorted inside a room. It was nicer and reeked of polished furniture and heavy curtains, a clear upgrade from the shoebox. Still, Isabelle saw it for what it was – an elaborate backdrop to house the empress.
Enter Isla, the majestic empress herself, into Isabelle's carefully crafted world of innocence. A forced smile met a royal nod, and the room felt more like a battlefield than a sitting room.
But Isabelle didn't know what Isla was trying to do. Thus, she kept her calm, not even attempting to speak first, even though Isla also didn't initiate the conversation.
It continued on awkwardly like that, and it made Isabelle think that Isla knew what had happened between her and the emperor and what she had done to expose her. It had been a month after that day... she knew, right?
But Isabelle was surprised when Isla suddenly asked something completely different.
"Do you remember the tea you made for my mother before she died?" Isla asked.