Isabella, the serving girl, was walking up the road from the carriage she and the rest of the palace waiting staff had been riding in, looking for Otto, Albert’s son. They had been exchanging brief glances when-so-ever they saw each other, and while she understood the implications of being caught—unemployment being the least of her worries—she was hoping for more. What that was or what it looked like she had no idea, though the older and more adventurous serving girls had told her that she ought to “Carpe virum!” whatever that meant. Further that any chance at enjoyable time with young men was time well spent. All she was certain of was that Otto gave her weak knees and lightness in the pit of her stomach, thrilling but entirely confusing.
The valley down to the left was deep enough that the river that raged over the stones at the bottom never saw direct sun light. Isabella saw that there was a great deal of snow below while higher up the valley walls spring flowers and the rest of the early greenery was already dying beneath the later blooming plants of early summer. The summits on the other side of the valley were stark white, steep and glistening with snow. The late afternoon light just beginning to shift into a pleasant rose that lit the waterfalls, snow, and azure tarns a striking gold as the sun continued to set.
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