It felt bittersweet for Leonor to see her room which had been neglected for much of her teen years suddenly spotless with candles lit and a fire roaring in the small fireplace along the wall.
While she was glad she hadn't seen it in the state the guards did, it felt awful knowing she had to throw her title around to get respect. How she wished she had a sensitive father who, despite having his wife taken from him, remained happy with what family he had left and was willing to do anything for them.
Her thoughts drifted to her mother whose old storybooks sat on Leonor's shelf untouched but dusted unlike they used to be. In turn, her thoughts drifted to the man she ran into before leaving the palace.
Braulio de Marro.
Blue eyes, neat dark hair, and pale skin. His military uniform was spotless but, unlike other military officers, he had a warm smile and gentle eyes.
