Confessions Of A Terminally ill Princess

My husband was always cold to me.

“You keep trying to cross the line I’ve drawn.”

The arrogant attitude. A look of disdain.

“Don’t be so presumptuous. I’ll give you nothing more than a king and a Queen.”

He was a difficult man, always had been.

But.

When he found out I had only three months to live.

“Are you really…dying?” He asked.

There was only one answer I could give him.

“Yes.”

The inevitable fate had already been written.

So I begged him to grant my last wish.

“Before I die, I want to see the sea.”

For the best memories. To leave at the end of my life.

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The Princess called her diary ‘Largo’