The old leather journal felt heavy in my hands as I traced my fingers over the faded words of my ancestor. I, Isabella Thorne the Third, had spent weeks poring through family archives, searching for any mention of the mysterious Whispering Caves that had featured so prominently in the early days of my family's history.
"Your Grace?" My lady's maid, Meredith, hovered in the doorway of my study. "It's nearly midnight. Should I prepare your bed?"
I shook my head, not looking up from the journals spread across my desk. "Not yet. I need to finish this tonight."
After Meredith left with a concerned curtsy, I returned to my research. As the current Duchess and keeper of the Thorne family's herbal knowledge, I felt drawn to understand the magical roots of our lineage. My namesake—the first Isabella—had been a skilled herbalist whose knowledge had saved countless lives, including her husband Duke Alaric's.
But there was more to her story than the official chronicles revealed.
