Her Royal Highness, Leonor

Her Royal Highness

A lamp has been shut, another one stays lit on the far end of the palace bedroom. Norma, the maid, has curtsied to the Princess sitting on her bed, bidding Leonor a smile.

"Buenas noches, su majestad."

Leonor smiled and watched as Norma exited her room and gently closed the door. Once shut, she laid back in her sheets, staring at the ceiling, her mind still awake.

Philippa's face sprung into her memory, and she silently smiled, as she touched a hand to her wounded fingers. The stinging pain is still there, but she gives it little care. Her smile remains the same as she remembered the evening that just went on.

She sighs and remembers how it felt good to be able to help Philippa clean her bathroom. Never had she done something simple yet refreshing as that before, and never had she had someone willingly ask her to do it, without hesitation. She remembered the concerned look in Philippa's eyes while draining blood from her fingers. She was terrified of them, the blood; yes, but they all seemed to have subsided by the caring touch of the writer.

She turned her position on the right side of the bed and got lost looking at the clock ticking at her bedside.

She remembered how gently Philippa cleaned her wounds, she remembered their little exchanges of questions in between sharing the coffee, and she can't deny - it was the best coffee with a conversation she ever had for years.

She touched the wounded fingers again and turned to the left side of the bed again.

It was the best coffee, she presumed, but now she can't sleep.

She looked past the window and can see that the start of the night seems to be falling asleep in its darkness, and she wondered if Philippa was still studying at this time.

She sighs and looks at the clock. It was only past ten in the evening now, but she felt as if it was just the start of the day.

She woke up from the bed and looked around the room. It's now only when she's been inside one of the smallest rooms she had in her life, that she noticed how visibly huge this room of hers is. She realized how perspective can change when they are tested with something different.

Something different was that she felt tiny in a huge room with only her presence here.

She tried to sleep once again, but when she looked back at the clock again, it was near past twelve. She looks out the window, and the moon above is visible on this crisp Madrid night. After eating all those doughnuts earlier, she craved something sweeter.

She thought she'd like to have ice cream.

Thinking the maids must have already gone to sleep, she sneaks downstairs and within the little light in the palace halls, she goes to the kitchen, glad there's no one awake. She walked like a kitten, her long nightgown's hem brushing the floor, and she looked around before walking through the fridges. She knew it must be somewhere here, the ice cream.

Opening the third fridge, she finally found it. She took it out and fished a little bowl and a spoon from the kitchen wares, making sure she didn't make a sound pulling them off. The little light from the fridges is enough for her to see through the kitchen top table, where she puts the pack and ice cream and starts transferring spoonfuls of them in her bowl.

On her first bite, she sensed the familiar flavor of mocha melting in her tastes. She kind of smiled at how delicious it tasted, she spent the next minutes silently finishing it within three spoons.

On her second reach to the pack, a light has been switched from the main kitchen and she silently gasps as she turns to look back on the door, relieved to see it was just Aurelia, her secretary, giving her a surprised look.