#iscbcl

A fraud. Robert Windsor was a fraud and the whole international community had a front row ticket to his undoing. He had heard the whispers grow louder and louder until they were screaming banshees in his ear, reminding him of his unclean blood and his new title- not king, but bastard. Robert’s heart felt like it had been thrown into the ocean and left to rot, and he knew it was only time until the complete unravelling began. There was one person he needed to see more than anyone else. One person he needed to talk to, to prepare, before things started turning dark. Isobel. He searched for her in all their usual places but found himself jogging towards the meadow, in hopes to catch a glimpse of her there. A sigh of relief left his lips as he saw her sitting by the grass, calm and peaceful. In turn, he felt like a storm, ready to unleash its horrors. “Isobel,” he said, his face unreadable.