#CHAPTER 77: Charles and Isabella

ISABELLA I had spent my entire life living in the luxury of some of Europe’s finest noble homes. Hell, for the last five years, I had managed to get away with living in Fresonia’s royal castle. I was used to servants waiting on me hand and foot, and waking to bubble baths and pressed linens. Sleeping on the ground in a tent in Charles’ military encampment in the Dragon’s Teeth mountains was about as far from luxury as you could get. Every morning I woke up, feeling sore in places I did not know could ache. I was always cold, as if the cold had somehow seeped into my bones. I had sacrificed everything–my family ties, my life in the castle, any potential of a relationship with Felix–to join Charles’ mutiny and take down the crown. Sometimes I wondered if sleeping on the ground was worth it. Charles summoned me to his tent that afternoon. Still feeling tired and grumpy, I begrudgingly dragged myself over to the center of the camp. Charles was examining a