Frederick looked up from the racing forms, blinking. “The stewards handle that, darling. Why don't you come look at the new marble for the ballroom? It’s imported from the coast.”
“Frederick,” Ella said one morning, over a breakfast of poached eggs she wasn't allowed to cook herself. “The roof in the south village is still leaking from the spring storms. We talked about the masonry budget.” Frederick looked up from the racing forms, blinking
They didn't live in a fairytale after that. They lived in a bureaucracy. There were arguments over taxes, long nights of paperwork, and the occasional public spat. But when they walked through the gardens now, they didn't just talk about the flowers—they talked about the irrigation. blinking. “The stewards handle that