Isobel Martinez
Crown Princess of Trèlins
Interacting with:
”Please don’t make me do this, dad,” Isobel said gently to her father.
“Isobel… please,” her father started, that pained looked she loathed to see in him set in his eyes, practically begging her to not make him repeat the reason of her betrothal. “If it was up to your mother and I you’d be able to marry whoever you like, you know that sweetie. You know I hate this as much as you do, but it’s law.”
”Then change it! You’re the freaking king for heaven’s sake! She’s not the queen anymore. She hasn’t been for 23 years…” she was stopped by that pained smile of her father’s and just gave a sigh.
”I’m sorry dad, I didn’t mean…”“No, no, it’s okay. You have your mother’s passion,” he gives her a small smile, “I suppose I’m slightly responsible for marrying that. She was always too outspoken for her own good,”
“What was that?” called the voice of Trèlins queen whom had happened to be walking the hallway past Isobel’s room at this point.
“Love you honey!” The king replied, not skipping a beat. Lyndsey poked her head into the doorway.
“I’d hope so,” she replies, shaking her head before turning to her husband. “Come on, I think Isobel’s old enough to pack herself, give your daughter some peace, she’s not a child anymore,” she instructs him, ushering him out of the room and offering her daughter a smile before closing the door behind her.
The car ride to Aciras was silent, with was odd for the Martinez family. They often spent outings chatting and singing together but not today. Isobel tugged on her
dress, much more simplistic than mkst of her unique stuff, some may even go as far to call her creations wacky. It was a casual dress also, not that Isobel was a
huge dress wearer. Whether she liked dresses or not baking and shelter building were not activities easily done in dress. Nonetheless this was, to an extent, a casual first meet. She hoped so at least.
Thérèse had refused to say who Isobel was betrothed to, bringing the young woman wave after wave of nervousness. Thérèse held no love for her granddaughter, the feeling was mutual.
As the car pulled up at the castle Isobel stomach was hosting a lot of butterflies, angry butterflies. Her nervousness banged around her insides. With a sigh she ran a hand through her pink hair and ascended the steps, her parents trailing behind. Isobel offered a courteous nod to Niklas but walked over to the crown princess of Aciras.
”Princess Raven,” she greets the young woman with a nod of the head.
”I’m Princess Isobel of Trèlins, nice to meet you. To say I know nothing of you would be a lie but it is an honour to meet you,””It’s an honour to meet you,” Isobel wondered if that was even genuine. This was the place she was being forced to marry a stranger, and this young woman was its future, however, Raven was as much in this situation as Isobel. She shouldn't judge so quickly.
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